Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
by T.Cullen1
Summary: In Harry's sixth year he along with Ron, Hermione, Sirius, Fred, George, McGonagall, and Snape read the third Harry Potter book. Please read and review.
1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

I don't own anything.

Chapter 1

It was the middle of Harry's sixth year when something strange happened. He was in the middle of a detention with Umbridge when there was a pop and he disappeared.

He reappeared in a room filled with couches, a few small coffee tables, lamps, and a letter placed on top of a book. He was about to reach for the letter when there was another pop followed by another and another.

Soon Sirius, Snape, McGonagall, Fred, George, Ron, and Hermione were with him.

"Bloody h-!" Ron yelled.

"Wicked," Said Fred and George.

"Where are we?" Hermione and Professor McGonagall asked.

"There's a letter on the table," Said Snape snatching it and quickly reading over it before reading aloud.

"Dear Harry, Sirius, Fred, George, Ron, Hermione, McGonagall, and Snape,

You are locked in a magical room which will only release you when finished with the book on the table.

-Your friends from the future"

"Wicked," Said Fred and George.

"Severus, let me see that," Said McGonagall taking the note.

"Snivellius, this is a lame excuse for a prank," Said Sirius.

Harry ignored them and picked up the book. It's title was Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. Oh no! Harry thought.

Snape snatched the book from him and read the title.

"Are we going to read it?" Ron asked.

"I guess we have to, Mr. Weasley if the letter is true," Said McGonagall.

Oh great. We'll get to learn all about the perfect Prince Potter. Snape thought.

"Who's reading first?" Sirius asked.

"I guess I will," Said McGonagall.

"**Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban."**

"Oh no," Said Harry causing everyone to give him strange looks.

"**Chapter one, Owl Post. Harry Potter was a highly unusual boy…"**

"Ha!" Fred and George said.

McGonagall gave them glares before reading again.

"…**In many ways. For one thing, he hated the summer holidays more than any other time of the year."**

"Why?" Sirius asked.

"You'll find out," Harry grumbled.

"**For another, he really wanted to do his homework…"**

Many erupted into laughter earning glares.

"…**.But was forced to do it in secret, in the dead of the night. And he also happened to be a wizard.**

**It was nearly midnight, and he was lying on his stomach in bed, the blankets drawn right over his head like a tent, a flashlight in one hand and a large leather-bound book (A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot) propped open against the pillow. Harry moved the tip of his eagle-feather quill down the page, frowning as he looked for something that would help him write his essay, "Witch burning in the Fourteenth Century Was Completely Pointless—discuss."**

**The quill paused at the top of a likely-looking paragraph. Harry pushed his round glasses up the bridge of his nose, moved his flashlight closer to the book, and read:**

**Non-magic people (more commonly known as Muggles) were particularly afraid of magic in medieval times, but not very good at recognizing it. On the rare occasion that they did catch a real with or wizard, burning had no effect whatsoever. The witch or wizard would perform a basic Flame-Freezing Charm and then pretend to shriek with pain while enjoying a gentle, tickling sensation. Indeed, Wendlin the Weird enjoyed being burned so much that she allowed herself to be caught no less than forty-seven times in various disguises."**

"Creepy," Said Fred.

"**Harry put his quill between his teeth and reached underneath his pillow for his ink bottle and a roll of parchment. Slowly and very carefully he unscrewed the ink bottle, dipped his quill into it, and began to write, pausing every now and then to listen, because if any of the Dursley's heard the scratching of his quill on their way to the bathroom, he'd probably find himself locked in the cupboard under the stairs for the rest of the summer."**

"Harry, they wouldn't make you live under the stairs," Said McGonagall.

"I lived under the stairs until I got my Hogwarts letter," Harry accidently said.

"WHAT?" Sirius roared.

"Calm down, Sirius. I'm fine," Harry tried to reassure him.

"They made you live under the stairs?" Everyone except Snape asked Harry.

Harry nodded. "But I'm fine," He reassured them.

"I will murder them," Said Sirius.

"And earn an even longer stay in Azkaban," Said Harry.

Everyone was shocked about how Harry was treated even Snape, though he'd never admit it.

McGonagall began to read again once it had quieted down.

"**The Dursley family of Number Four, Privet Drive, was the reason that Harry never enjoyed his summer holidays. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and their son, Dudley, were Harry's only living relatives. They were Muggles, and they had a very medieval attitude toward magic. Harry's dead parents, who had been a witch and wizard themselves, were never mentioned under the Dursleys' roof. For years, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had hoped that if they kept Harry as downtrodden as possible, they would be able to squash the magic out of him."**

"That's awful," Said Hermione.

"**To their fury, they had not been unsuccessful. These days they lived in terror of anyone finding out that Harry had spent most of the last two years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The most they could do, however, was to lock away Harry's spell books, wand, cauldron, and broomstick at the start of the summer break, and forbid him to talk to the neighbors.**

**This separation from his spell books had been a real problem for Harry, because his teachers at Hogwarts had given him a lot of holiday work. One of the essays, a particularly nasty one about shrinking potions, was for Harry's least favorite teacher, Professor Snape…"**

"Potter!" Snape said.

Sirius laughed.

"I didn't write the book," Said Harry earning a glare from Snape.

"Harry," Cautioned McGonagall before reading again.

"…**,who would be delighted to have an excuse to give Harry detention for a month."**

"Severus," Said McGonagall to Snape giving him a glare.

"**Harry had therefore seized his chance in the first week of the holidays. While Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley had gone out into the front garden to admire Uncle Vernon's new company car (in very loud voices, so that the rest of the street would notice it too), Harry had crept downstairs, picked the lock on the cupboard under the stairs, grabbed some of his books, and hidden them in his bedroom. As long as he didn't leave spots of ink on the sheets, the Dursleys need never know that he was studying magic by night.**

**Harry was particularly keen to avoid trouble with his aunt and uncle at the moment, as they were already in an especially bad mood with him, all because he'd received a telephone call from a fellow wizard one week into the school vacation."**

"Me!" Ron said.

"Yeah you," Said Harry.

"**Ron Weasley, who was one of Harry's best friends at Hogwarts, came from a whole family of wizards. This meant that he knew a lot of things Harry didn't, but had never used a telephone before. Most unluckily, it had been Uncle Vernon who had answered the call.**

"**Vernon Dursley speaking."**

**Harry, who happened to be in the room at the time, froze as he heard Ron's voice answer.**

"**HELLO? HELLO? CAN YOU HEAR ME? I — WANT — TO — TALK — TO — HARRY — POTTER!"**

**Ron was yelling so loudly that Uncle Vernon jumped and held the receiver a foot away from his ear, staring at it with an expression of mingled fury and alarm."**

Fred and George were rolling on the floor with laughter along with Sirius. Ron held a huge grin. McGonagall and Hermione held small smiles while Snape had a blank expression.

""**WHO IS THIS?" he roared in the direction of the mouthpiece. "WHO ARE YOU?"**

"**RON — WEASLEY!" Ron bellowed back, as though he and Uncle Vernon were speaking from opposite ends of a football field. "I'M — A — FRIEND — OF — HARRY'S — FROM — SCHOOL —"**

**Uncle Vernon's small eyes swiveled around to Harry, who was rooted to the spot.**

"**THERE IS NO HARRY POTTER HERE!" he roared, now holding the receiver at arm's length, as though frightened it might explode. "I DON'T KNOW WHAT SCHOOL YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT! NEVER CONTACT ME AGAIN! DON'T YOU COME NEAR MY FAMILY!"**

**And he threw the receiver back onto the telephone as if dropping a poisonous spider."**

"Eww," Said Ron hearing spiders which caused more laughs from Fred and George.

"**The fight that had followed had been one of the worst ever.**

"**HOW DARE YOU GIVE THIS NUMBER TO PEOPLE LIKE — PEOPLE LIKE YOU!" Uncle Vernon had roared, spraying Harry with spit."**

"Eww!"

"Sorry mate," Said Ron.

"**Ron obviously realized that he'd gotten Harry into trouble, because he hadn't called again. Harry's other best friend from Hogwarts, Hermione Granger, hadn't been in touch either. Harry suspected that Ron had warned Hermione not to call, which was a pity, because Hermione, the cleverest witch in Harry's year, had Muggle parents, knew perfectly well how to use a telephone, and would probably have had enough sense not to say that she went to Hogwarts.**

**So Harry had had no word from any of his wizarding friends for five long weeks, and this summer was turning out to be almost as bad as the last one. There was just one very small improvement — after swearing that he wouldn't use her to send letters to any of his friends, Harry had been allowed to let his owl, Hedwig, out at night. Uncle Vernon had given in because of the racket Hedwig made if she was locked in her cage all the time.**

**Harry finished writing about Wendelin the Weird and paused to listen again. The silence in the dark house was broken only by the distant, grunting snores of his enormous cousin, Dudley. It must be very late, Harry thought. His eyes were itching with tiredness. Perhaps he'd finish this essay tomorrow night…**

**He replaced the top of the ink bottle; pulled an old pillowcase from under his bed; put the flashlight, A History of Magic, his essay, quill, and ink inside it; got out of bed; and hid the lot under a loose floorboard under his bed. Then he stood up, stretched, and checked the time on the luminous alarm clock on his bedside table.**

**It was one o'clock in the morning. Harry's stomach gave a funny jolt. He had been thirteen years old, without realizing it, for a whole hour.**

**Yet another unusual thing about Harry was how little he looked forward to his birthdays. He had never received a birthday card in his life. The Dursleys had completely ignored his last two birthdays, and he had no reason to suppose they would remember this one."**

Sirius growled and the others except Snape threw sad looks at Harry.

"**Harry walked across the dark room, past Hedwig's large, empty cage, to the open window. He leaned on the sill, the cool night air pleasant on his face after a long time under the blankets. Hedwig had been absent for two nights now. Harry wasn't worried about her: she'd been gone this long before. But he hoped she'd be back soon — she was the only living creature in this house who didn't flinch at the sight of him.**

**Harry, though still rather small and skinny for his age, had grown a few inches over the last year. His jet-black hair, however, was just as it always had been — stubbornly untidy, whatever he did to it. The eyes behind his glasses were bright green, and on his forehead, clearly visible through his hair, was a thin scar, shaped like a bolt of lightning.**

**Of all the unusual things about Harry, this scar was the most extraordinary of all. It was not, as the Dursleys had pretended for ten years, a souvenir of the car crash that had killed Harry's parents, because Lily and James Potter had not died in a car crash. They had been murdered, murdered by the most feared Dark wizard for a hundred years, Lord…"**

"It's only a name," Said Sirius.

"**V-Voldemort. Harry had escaped from the same attack with nothing more than a scar on his forehead, where Voldemort's curse, instead of killing him, had rebounded upon its originator. Barely alive, V-voldemort had fled…**

**But Harry had come face-to-face with him at Hogwarts. Remembering their last meeting as he stood at the dark window, Harry had to admit he was lucky even to have reached his thirteenth birthday.**

**He scanned the starry sky for a sign of Hedwig, perhaps soaring back to him with a dead mouse dangling from her beak, expecting praise. Gazing absently over the rooftops, it was a few seconds before Harry realized what he was seeing.**

**Silhouetted against the golden moon, and growing larger every moment, was a large, strangely lopsided creature, and it was flapping in Harry's direction. He stood quite still, watching it sink lower and lower. For a split second he hesitated, his hand on the window latch, wondering whether to slam it shut. But then the bizarre creature soared over one of the street lamps of Privet Drive, and Harry, realizing what it was, leapt aside.**

**Through the window soared three owls, two of them holding up the third, which appeared to be unconscious. They landed with a soft flump on Harry's bed, and the middle owl, which was large and gray, keeled right over and lay motionless. There was a large package tied to its legs.**

**Harry recognized the unconscious owl at once — his name was Errol, and he belonged to the Weasley family. Harry dashed to the bed, untied the cords around Errol's legs, took off the parcel, and then carried Errol to Hedwig's cage. Errol opened one bleary eye, gave a feeble hoot of thanks, and began to gulp some water.**

**Harry turned back to the remaining owls. One of them, the large snowy female, was his own Hedwig. She, too, was carrying a parcel and looked extremely pleased with herself. She gave Harry an affectionate nip with her beak as he removed her burden, then flew across the room to join Errol.**

**Harry didn't recognize the third owl, a handsome tawny one, but he knew at once where it had come from, because in addition to a third package, it was carrying a letter bearing the Hogwarts crest. When Harry relieved this owl of its burden, it ruffled its feathers importantly, stretched its wings, and took off through the window into the night.**

**Harry sat down on his bed and grabbed Errol's package, ripped off the brown paper, and discovered a present wrapped in gold and his first ever birthday card. Fingers trembling slightly, he opened the envelope. Two pieces of paper fell out — a letter and a newspaper clipping.**

**The clipping had clearly come out of the wizarding newspaper, the Daily Prophet, because the**

**people in the black-and-white picture were moving. Harry picked up the clipping, smoothed it out, and read:**

**MINISTRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE**

**Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, has won the annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw.**

**A delighted Mr. Weasley told the Daily Prophet, "We will be spending the gold on a summer holiday in Egypt, where our eldest son, Bill, works as a curse breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank."**

**The Weasley family will be spending a month in Egypt, returning for the start of the new school year at Hogwarts, which five of the Weasley children currently attend.**

**Harry scanned the moving photograph, and a grin spread across his face as he saw all nine of the Weasleys waving furiously at him, standing in front of a large pyramid. Plump little Mrs. Weasley; tall, balding Mr. Weasley; six sons; and one daughter, all (though the black-and-white picture didn't show it) with flaming-red hair. Right in the middle of the picture was Ron…"**

"Me!" Ron said.

"…**, tall and gangling, with his pet rat, Scabbers, on his shoulder and his arm around his little sister, Ginny.**

**Harry couldn't think of anyone who deserved to win a large pile of gold more than the Weasleys, who were very nice and extremely poor. He picked up Ron's letter and unfolded it.**

**Dear Harry,**

**Happy birthday!**

**Look, I'm really sorry about that telephone call. I hope the Muggles didn't give you a hard time. I asked Dad, and he reckons I shouldn't have shouted.**

**It's amazing here in Egypt. Bill's taken us around all the tombs and you wouldn't believe the curses those old Egyptian wizards put on them. Mum wouldn't let Ginny come in the last one. There were all these mutant skeletons in there, of Muggles who'd broken in and grown extra heads and stuff.**

**I couldn't believe it when Dad won the Daily Prophet Draw. Seven hundred galleons! Most of it's gone on this trip, but they're going to buy me a new wand for next year.**

**Harry remembered only too well the occasion when Ron's old wand had snapped. It had happened when the car the two of them had been flying to Hogwarts had crashed into a tree on the school grounds.**

**We'll be back about a week before term starts and we'll be going up to London to get my wand and our new books. Any chance of meeting you there?**

**Don't let the Muggles get you down!**

**Try and come to London,**

**Ron**

**P.S. Percy's Head Boy. He got the letter last week."**

"Prat," Said Fred, George, and Ron together.

"**Harry glanced back at the photograph. Percy, who was in his seventh and final year at Hogwarts, was looking particularly smug. He had pinned his Head Boy badge to the fez perched jauntily on top of his neat hair, his horn-rimmed glasses flashing in the Egyptian sun.**

**Harry now turned to his present and unwrapped it. Inside was what looked like a miniature glass spinning top. There was another note from Ron beneath it.**

**Harry — this is a Pocket Sneakoscope. If there's someone untrustworthy around, it's supposed to light up and spin. Bill says it's rubbish sold for wizard tourists and isn't reliable, because it kept lighting up at dinner last night. But he didn't realize Fred and George had put beetles in his soup."**

Fred and George laughed.

"**Bye — Ron"**

"I'm not leaving," said Ron earning a glare.

"**Harry put the Pocket Sneakoscope on his bedside table, where it stood quite still, balanced on its point, reflecting the luminous hands of his clock. He looked at it happily for a few seconds, then picked up the parcel Hedwig had brought.**

**Inside this, too, there was a wrapped present, a card, and a letter, this time from Hermione.**

**Dear Harry,**

**Ron wrote to me and told me about his phone call to your Uncle Vernon. I do hope you're all right.**

**I'm on holiday in France at the moment and I didn't know how I was going to send this to you — what if they'd opened it at customs? — but then Hedwig turned up! I think she wanted to make sure you got something for your birthday for a change. I bought your present by owl-order; there was an advertisement in the Daily Prophet (I've been getting it delivered; it's so good to keep up with what's going on in the wizarding world. Did you see that picture of Ron and his family a week ago? I bet he's learning loads. I'm really jealous — the ancient Egyptian wizards were fascinating.**

**There's some interesting local history of witchcraft here, too. I've rewritten my whole History of Magic essay to include some of the things I've found out, I hope it's not too long — it's two rolls of parchment more than Professor Binns asked for.**

**Ron says he's going to be in London in the last week of the holidays. Can you make it? Will your**

**aunt and uncle let you come? I really hope you can. If not, I'll see you on the Hogwarts Express on September first!**

**Love from Hermione**

**P.S. Ron says Percy's Head Boy. I'll bet Percy's really pleased. Ron doesn't seem too happy about it.**

**Harry laughed as he put Hermione's letter aside and picked up her present. It was very heavy. Knowing Hermione, he was sure it would be a large book full of very difficult spells — but it wasn't. His heart gave a huge bound as he ripped back the paper and saw a sleek black leather case, with silver words stamped across it, reading Broomstick Servicing Kit.**

"**Wow, Hermione!" Harry whispered, unzipping the case to look inside.**

**There was a large jar of Fleetwood's High-Finish Handle Polish, a pair of gleaming silver Tail-Twig Clippers, a tiny brass compass to clip on your broom for long journeys, and a Handbook of Do-It-Yourself Broomcare.**

**Apart from his friends, the thing that Harry missed most about Hogwarts was Quidditch, the most popular sport in the magical world — highly dangerous, very exciting, and played on broomsticks. Harry happened to be a very good Quidditch player; he had been the youngest person in a century to be picked for one of the Hogwarts House teams. One of Harry's most prized possessions was his Nimbus Two Thousand racing broom.**

**Harry put the leather case aside and picked up his last parcel. He recognized the untidy scrawl on the brown paper at once: this was from Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper. He tore off the top layer of paper and glimpsed something green and leathery, but before he could unwrap it properly, the parcel gave a strange quiver, and whatever was inside it snapped loudly — as though it had jaws.**

**Harry froze. He knew that Hagrid would never send him anything dangerous on purpose, but then, Hagrid didn't have a normal person's view of what was dangerous. Hagrid had been known to befriend giant spiders, buy vicious, three-headed dogs from men in pubs, and sneak illegal dragon eggs into his cabin."**

"Wicked," Said Fred and George.

"Not wicked," Said Harry, Hermione, and Ron together getting questioning looks.

"**Harry poked the parcel nervously. It snapped loudly again. Harry reached for the lamp on his bedside table, gripped it firmly in one hand, and raised it over his head, ready to strike. Then he seized the rest of the wrapping paper in his other hand and pulled.**

**And out fell — a book. Harry just had time to register its handsome green cover, emblazoned with the golden title The Monster Book of Monsters, before it flipped onto its edge and scuttled sideways along the bed like some weird crab.**

"**Uh-oh," Harry muttered.**

**The book toppled off the bed with a loud clunk and shuffled rapidly across the room. Harry followed it stealthily. The book was hiding in the dark space under his desk. Praying that the Dursleys were still fast asleep, Harry got down on his hands and knees and reached toward it.**

"**Ouch!"**

**The book snapped shut on his hand and then flapped past him, still scuttling on its covers. Harry scrambled around, threw himself forward, and managed to flatten it. Uncle Vernon gave a loud, sleepy grunt in the room next door.**

**Hedwig and Errol watched interestedly as Harry clamped the struggling book tightly in his arms, hurried to his chest of drawers, and pulled out a belt, which he buckled tightly around it. The Monster Book shuddered angrily, but could no longer flap and snap, so Harry threw it down on the bed and reached for Hagrid's card.**

**Dear Harry,**

**Happy Birthday!**

**Think you might find this useful for next year. Won't say no more here. Tell you when I see you.**

**Hope the Muggles are treating you right.**

**All the best,**

**Hagrid**

**It struck Harry as ominous that Hagrid thought a biting book would come in useful, but he put Hagrid's card up next to Ron's and Hermione's, grinning more broadly than ever. Now there was only the letter from Hogwarts left.**

**Noticing that it was rather thicker than usual, Harry slit open the envelope, pulled out the first page of parchment within, and read:**

**Dear Mr. Potter,**

**Please note that the new school year will begin on September the first. The Hogwarts Express will leave from King's Cross station, platform nine and three-quarters, at eleven o'clock.**

**Third years are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade on certain weekends. Please give the enclosed permission form to your parent or guardian to sign.**

**A list of books for next year is enclosed.**

**Yours sincerely,**

**Professor M. McGonagall**

**Deputy Headmistress**

**Harry pulled out the Hogsmeade permission form and looked at it, no longer grinning. It would be wonderful to visit Hogsmeade on weekends; he knew it was an entirely wizarding village, and he had never set foot there. But how on earth was he going to persuade Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia to sign the form?**

**He looked over at the alarm clock. It was now two o'clock in the morning.**

**Deciding that he'd worry about the Hogsmeade form when he woke up, Harry got back into bed and reached up to cross off another day on the chart he'd made for himself, counting down the days left until his return to Hogwarts. Then he took off his glasses and lay down; eyes open, facing his three birthday cards.**

**Extremely unusual though he was, at that moment Harry Potter felt just like everyone else — glad, for the first time in his life, that it was his birthday."**

He was given sad looks again.

"That's the end of the chapter. Who wants to read next?" McGonagall asked.

"I will," Said Snape.

_Thanks for reading, please review._


	2. Chapter 2

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

I don't own anything.

Chapter 2

Snape begins to read.

"**Chapter two, Aunt Marge's Big Mistake."**

"Is that who?" Fred asked.

"Yes," Harry said laughing.

Snape glared at them and others who did not know gave him confusing looks.

"**Harry went down to breakfast the next morning to find the three Dursleys already sitting around the kitchen table. They were watching a brand-new television, a welcome-home-for-the-summer present for Dudley, who had been complaining loudly about the long walk between the fridge and the television in the living room. Dudley had spent most of the summer in the kitchen, his piggy little eyes fixed on the screen and his five chins wobbling as he ate continually."**

"Eww," Said a few.

"What's a television and a fridge?"

Hermione explained to them before Snape began to read again.

"**Harry sat down between Dudley and Uncle Vernon, a large, beefy man with very little neck and a lot of mustache."**

"Lovely," Said George.

"**Far from wishing Harry a happy birthday, none of the Dursleys made any sign that they had noticed Harry enter the room, but Harry was far too used to this to care. He helped himself to a piece of toast and then looked up at the reporter on the television, who was halfway through a report on an escaped convict.**

"… **the public is warned that Black is armed and extremely dangerous. A special hot line has been set up, and any sighting of Black should be reported immediately."**

"Me!" Sirius said.

""**No need to tell us he's no good," snorted Uncle Vernon, staring over the top of his newspaper at the prisoner. "Look at the state of him, the filthy layabout! Look at his hair!"**

"You just wait, Dursley."

"**He shot a nasty look sideways at Harry, whose untidy hair had always been a source of great annoyance to Uncle Vernon."**

"Like James's."

"**Compared to the man on the television, however, whose gaunt face was surrounded by a matted, elbow-length tangle, Harry felt very well groomed indeed."**

"Thanks," Said Sirius.

"**The reporter had reappeared.**

"**The Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries will announce today —"**

"**Hang on!" barked Uncle Vernon, staring furiously at the reporter. "You didn't tell us where that maniac's escaped from! What use is that? Lunatic could be coming up the street right now!"**

**Aunt Petunia, who was bony and horse-faced, whipped around and peered intently out of the kitchen window. Harry knew Aunt Petunia would simply love to be the one to call the hot line number. She was the nosiest woman in the world and spent most of her life spying on the boring, law-abiding neighbors.**

"**When will they learn," said Uncle Vernon, pounding the table with his large purple fist, "that hanging's the only way to deal with these people?"**

"Hanging is when they put a rope around someone's neck and hang them so their feet do not touch the ground s they die. It's illegal now," Said Hermione.

"**Very true," said Aunt Petunia, who was still squinting into next door's runner-beans.**

**Uncle Vernon drained his teacup, glanced at his watch, and added, "I'd better be off in a minute, Petunia. Marge's train gets in at ten."**

**Harry, whose thoughts had been upstairs with the Broomstick Servicing Kit, was brought back to earth with an unpleasant bump.**

"**Aunt Marge?" he blurted out. "Sh-she's not coming here, is she?"**

**Aunt Marge was Uncle Vernon's sister. Even though she was not a blood relative of Harry's (whose mother had been Aunt Petunia's sister), he had been forced to call her 'Aunt' all his life. Aunt Marge lived in the country, in a house with a large garden, where she bred bulldogs. She didn't often stay at Privet Drive, because she couldn't bear to leave her precious dogs, but each of her visits stood out horribly vividly in Harry's mind.**

**At Dudley's fifth birthday party, Aunt Marge had whacked Harry around the shins with her walking stick to stop him from beating Dudley at musical statues."**

Sirius growled.

"**A few years later, she had turned up at Christmas with a computerized robot for Dudley and a box of dog biscuits for Harry. On her last visit, the year before Harry started at Hogwarts, Harry had accidentally trodden on the tail of her favorite dog. Ripper had chased Harry out into the garden and up a tree, and Aunt Marge had refused to call him off until past midnight."**

"You wait," Said Sirius.

"**The memory of this incident still brought tears of laughter to Dudley's eyes.**

"**Marge'll be here for a week," Uncle Vernon snarled, "and while we're on the subject," he pointed a fat finger threateningly at Harry, "we need to get a few things straight before I go and collect her."**

**Dudley smirked and withdrew his gaze from the television. Watching Harry being bullied by Uncle Vernon was Dudley's favorite form of entertainment.**

"**Firstly," growled Uncle Vernon, "you'll keep a civil tongue in your head when you're talking to Marge."**

"**All right," said Harry bitterly, "if she does when she's talking to me."**

"**Secondly," said Uncle Vernon, acting as though he had not heard Harry's reply, "as Marge doesn't know anything about your abnormality,"**

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sirius said.

"It means shut your mouth Black," Snape snapped.

"**I don't want any — any funny stuff while she's here. You behave yourself, got me?"**

"**I will if she does," said Harry through gritted teeth.**

"**And thirdly," said Uncle Vernon, his mean little eyes now slits in his great purple face, "we've told Marge you attend St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys."**

"What?" Sirius said.

""**What?" Harry yelled.**

"**And you'll be sticking to that story, boy, or there'll be trouble," spat Uncle Vernon.**

**Harry sat there, white-faced and furious, staring at Uncle Vernon, hardly able to believe it. Aunt Marge coming for a weeklong visit — it was the worst birthday present the Dursleys had ever given him, including that pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks."**

Sirius growled.

""**Well, Petunia," said Uncle Vernon, getting heavily to his feet, "I'll be off to the station, then. Want to come along for the ride, Dudders?"**

"**No," said Dudley, whose attention had returned to the television now that Uncle Vernon had finished threatening Harry.**

"**Duddy's got to make himself smart for his auntie," said Aunt Petunia, smoothing Dudley's thick blond hair. "Mummy's bought him a lovely new bow-tie."**

**Uncle Vernon clapped Dudley on his porky shoulder.**

"**See you in a bit, then," he said, and he left the kitchen.**

**Harry, who had been sitting in a kind of horrified trance, had a sudden idea. Abandoning his toast, he got quickly to his feet and followed Uncle Vernon to the front door.**

**Uncle Vernon was pulling on his car coat.**

"**I'm not taking you," he snarled as he turned to see Harry watching him.**

"**Like I wanted to come," said Harry coldly. "I want to ask you something."**

**Uncle Vernon eyed him suspiciously.**

"**Third years at Hog — at my school are allowed to visit the village sometimes," said Harry.**

"**So?" snapped Uncle Vernon, taking his car keys from a hook next to the door.**

"**I need you to sign the permission form," said Harry in a rush.**

"**And why should I do that?" sneered Uncle Vernon.**

"**Well," said Harry, choosing his words carefully, "it'll be hard work, pretending to Aunt Marge I go to that St. Whatsits…"**

"**St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys!" bellowed Uncle Vernon, and Harry was pleased to hear a definite note of panic in Uncle Vernon's voice.**

"**Exactly," said Harry, looking calmly up into Uncle Vernon's large, purple face. "It's a lot to remember. I'll have to make it sound convincing, won't I? What if I accidentally let something slip?"**

"**You'll get the stuffing knocked out of you, won't you?" roared Uncle Vernon, advancing on Harry with his fist raised. But Harry stood his ground."**

Sirius looked very angry now like he'd actually commit a murder.

""**Knocking the stuffing out of me won't make Aunt Marge forget what I could tell her," he said grimly.**

**Uncle Vernon stopped, his fist still raised, his face an ugly puce.**

"**But if you sign my permission form," Harry went on quickly, "I swear I'll remember where I'm supposed to go to school, and I'll act like a Mug — like I'm normal and everything."**

**Harry could tell that Uncle Vernon was thinking it over, even if his teeth were bared and a vein was throbbing in his temple.**

"**Right," he snapped finally. "I shall monitor your behavior carefully during Marge's visit. If, at the end of it, you've toed the line and kept to the story, I'll sign your ruddy form."**

**He wheeled around, pulled open the front door, and slammed it so hard that one of thelittle panes of glass at the top fell out.**

**Harry didn't return to the kitchen. He went back upstairs to his bedroom. If he was going to act like a real Muggle, heed better start now. Slowly and sadly he gathered up all his presents and his birthday cards and hid them under the loose floorboard with his homework. Then he went to Hedwig's cage. Errol seemed to have recovered; he and Hedwig were both asleep, heads under their wings. Harry sighed, then poked them both awake.**

"**Hedwig," he said gloomily, "you're going to have to clear off for a week. Go with Errol. Ron'll look after you. I'll write him a note, explaining. And don't look at me like that" — Hedwig's large amber eyes were reproachful — "it's not my fault. It's the only way I'll be allowed to visit Hogsmeade with Ron and Hermione."**

**Ten minutes later, Errol and Hedwig (who had a note to Ron bound to her leg) soared out of the window and out of sight. Harry, now feeling thoroughly miserable, put the empty cage away inside the wardrobe.**

**But Harry didn't have long to brood. In next to no time, Aunt Petunia was shrieking up the stairs for Harry to come down and get ready to welcome their guest.**

"**Do something about your hair!" Aunt Petunia snapped as he reached the hall.**

**Harry couldn't see the point of trying to make his hair lie flat. Aunt Marge loved criticizing him, so the untidier he looked, the happier she would be.**

**All too soon, there was a crunch of gravel outside as Uncle Vernon's car pulled back into the driveway, then the clunk of the car doors and footsteps on the garden path.**

"**Get the door!" Aunt Petunia hissed at Harry.**

**A feeling of great gloom in his stomach, Harry pulled the door open.**

**On the threshold stood Aunt Marge. She was very like Uncle Vernon: large, beefy, and purple-faced, she even had a mustache, though not as bushy as his."**

"Eww."

"**In one hand she held an enormous suitcase, and tucked under the other was an old and evil-tempered bulldog.**

"**Where's my Dudders?" roared Aunt Marge. "Where's my neffy poo?"**

**Dudley came waddling down the hall, his blond hair plastered flat to his fat head, a bow tie just visible under his many chins. Aunt Marge thrust the suitcase into Harry's stomach, knocking the wind out of him, seized Dudley in a tight one-armed hug, and planted a large kiss on his cheek.**

**Harry knew perfectly well that Dudley only put up with Aunt Marge's hugs because he was well paid for it, and sure enough, when they broke apart, Dudley had a crisp twenty-pound note clutched in his fat fist.**

"**Petunia!" shouted Aunt Marge, striding past Harry as though he was a hat-stand. Aunt Marge and Aunt Petunia kissed, or rather, Aunt Marge bumped her large jaw against Aunt Petunias bony cheekbone.**

**Uncle Vernon now came in, smiling jovially as he shut the door.**

"**Tea, Marge?" he said. "And what will Ripper take?"**

"**Ripper can have some tea out of my saucer," said Aunt Marge as they all proceeded into the kitchen, leaving Harry alone in the hall with the suitcase. But Harry wasn't complaining; any excuse not to be with Aunt Marge was fine by him, so he began to heave the case upstairs into the spare bedroom, taking as long as he could.**

**By the time he got back to the kitchen, Aunt Marge had been supplied with tea and fruitcake, and Ripper was lapping noisily in the corner. Harry saw Aunt Petunia wince slightly as specks of tea and drool flecked her clean floor. Aunt Petunia hated animals.**

"**Who's looking after the other dogs, Marge?" Uncle Vernon asked.**

"**Oh, I've got Colonel Fubster managing them," boomed Aunt Marge. "He's retired now, good for him to have something to do. But I couldn't leave poor old Ripper. He pines if he's away from me."**

**Ripper began to growl again as Harry sat down. This directed Aunt Marge's attention to Harry for the first time.**

"**So!" she barked. "Still here, are you?"**

"**Yes," said Harry.**

"**Don't you say 'yes' in that ungrateful tone," Aunt Marge growled. "It's damn good of Vernon and Petunia to keep you. Wouldn't have done it myself. You'd have gone straight to an**

**orphanage if you'd been dumped on my doorstep."**

Many growls were heard.

"**Harry was bursting to say that he'd rather live in an orphanage than with the Dursleys, but the thought of the Hogsmeade form stopped him. He forced his face into a painful smile.**

"**Don't you smirk at me!" boomed Aunt Marge. "I can see you haven't improved since I last saw you. I hoped school would knock some manners into you." She took a large gulp of tea, wiped her mustache, and said, "Where is it that you send him, again, Vernon?"**

"**St. Brutus's," said Uncle Vernon promptly. "It's a first-rate institution for hopeless cases."**

"**I see," said Aunt Marge. "Do they use the cane at St. Brutus's, boy?" she barked across the table.**

"**Er —"**

**Uncle Vernon nodded curtly behindAunt Marge's back.**

"**Yes," said Harry. Then, feeling he might as well do the thing properly, he added, "All the time."**

"**Excellent," said Aunt Marge. "I won't have this namby-pamby, wishy-washy nonsense about not hitting people who deserve it. A good thrashing is what's needed in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred. Have you been beaten often?"**

"**Oh, yeah," said Harry, "loads of times."**

**Aunt Marge narrowed her eyes."**

Harry, Fred, and George laughed while others growled.

""**I still don't like your tone, boy," she said. "If you can speak of your beatings in that casual way, they clearly aren't hitting you hard enough. Petunia, I'd write if I were you. Make it clear that you approve the use of extreme force in this boy's case."**

**Perhaps Uncle Vernon was worried that Harry might forget their bargain; in any case, he changed the subject abruptly.**

"**Heard the news this morning, Marge? What about that escaped prisoner, eh?"**

**As Aunt Marge started to make herself at home, Harry caught himself thinking almost longingly of life at number four without her. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia usually encouraged Harry to stay out of their way, which Harry was only too happy to do. Aunt Marge, on the other hand, wanted Harry under her eye at all times, so that she could boom out suggestions for his improvement. She delighted in comparing Harry with Dudley, and took huge pleasure in buying Dudley expensive presents while glaring at Harry, as though daring him to ask why he hadn't got a present too. She also kept throwing out dark hints about what made Harry such an unsatisfactory person."**

Sirius growled.

"Sirius shut up!" Harry said angrily.

""**You mustn't blame yourself for the way the boy's turned out, Vernon," she said over lunch on the third day. "If there's something rotten on the inside, there's nothing anyone can do about it."**

**Harry tried to concentrate on his food, but his hands shook and his face was starting to burn with anger. Remember the form, he told himself. Think about Hogsmeade. Don't say anything. Don't rise —**

**Aunt Marge reached for her glass of wine.**

"**It's one of the basic rules of breeding," she said. "You see it all the time with dogs. If there's something wrong with the bitch, there'll be something wrong with the pup —"**

"That—" Sirius said with many other choice words.

They even heard Snape mutter a few. No one knew about his love for Lily.

"**At that moment, the wineglass Aunt Marge was holding exploded in her hand. Shards of glass flew in every direction and Aunt Marge sputtered and blinked, her great ruddy face dripping.**

"**Marge!" squealed Aunt Petunia. "Marge, are you all right?"**

"**Not to worry," grunted Aunt Marge, mopping her face with her napkin. "Must have squeezed it too hard. Did the same thing at Colonel Fubster's the other day. No need to fuss, Petunia, I have a very firm grip…"**

**But Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were both looking at Harry suspiciously, so he decided he'd better skip dessert and escape from the table as soon as he could."**

Harry laughed.

"**Outside in the hall, he leaned against the wall, breathing deeply. It had been a long time since he'd lost control and made something explode. He couldn't afford to let it happen again. The Hogsmeade form wasn't the only thing at stake — if he carried on like that, he'd be in trouble with the Ministry of Magic.**

**Harry was still an underage wizard, and he was forbidden by wizard law to do magic outside school. His record wasn't exactly clean either. Only last summer he'd gotten an official warning that had stated quite clearly that if the Ministry got wind of any more magic in Privet Drive, Harry would face expulsion from Hogwarts.**

**He heard the Dursleys leaving the table and hurried upstairs out of the way.**

**Harry got through the next three days by forcing himself to think about his Handbook of Do-It-Yourself Broomcare whenever Aunt Marge started on him. This worked quite well, though it seemed to give him a glazed look, because Aunt Marge started voicing the opinion that he was mentally subnormal.**

**At last, at long last, the final evening of Marge's stay arrived. Aunt Petunia cooked a fancy dinner and Uncle Vernon uncorked several bottles of wine. They got all the way through the soup and the salmon without a single mention of Harry's faults; during the lemon meringue pie, Uncle Vernon bored them a with a long talk about Grunnings, his drill-making company; then Aunt Petunia made coffee and Uncle Vernon brought out a bottle of brandy.**

"**Can I tempt you, Marge?"**

**Aunt Marge had already had quite a lot of wine. Her huge face was very red.**

"**Just a small one, then," she chuckled. "A bit more than that… and a bit more… that's the ticket."**

**Dudley was eating his fourth slice of pie. Aunt Petunia was sipping coffee with her little finger sticking out. Harry really wanted to disappear into his bedroom, but he met Uncle Vernon's angry little eyes and knew he would have to sit it out.**

"**Aah," said Aunt Marge, smacking her lips and putting the empty brandy glass back down. "Excellent nosh, Petunia. It's normally just a fry-up for me of an evening, with twelve dogs to look after…" She burped richly and patted her great tweed stomach. "Pardon me. But I do like to see a healthy-sized boy," she went on, winking at Dudley. "You'll be a proper-sized man, Dudders, like your father. Yes, I'll have a spot more brandy, Vernon…"**

"Proper size," Harry snorted.

"**Now, this one here —"**

**She jerked her head at Harry, who felt his stomach clench. The Handbook, he thought quickly.**

"**This one's got a mean, runty look about him. You get that with dogs. I had Colonel Fubster drown one last year. Ratty little thing it was. Weak. Underbred."**

"Sirius!" Harry yelled before he could open his mouth.

"**Harry was trying to remember page twelve of his book: A Charm to Cure Reluctant Reversers.**

"**It all comes down to blood, as I was saying the other day. Bad blood will out. Now, I'm saying nothing against your family, Petunia" — she patted Aunt Petunia's bony hand with her shovel-like one "but your sister was a bad egg. They turn up in the best families. Then she ran off with a wastrel and here's the result right in front of us."**

Snape muttered a few more words along with Sirius.

"**Harry was staring at his plate, a funny ringing in his ears. Grasp your broom firmly by the tail, he thought. But he couldn't remember what came next. Aunt Marge's voice seemed to be boring into him like one of Uncle Vernon's drills.**

"**This Potter," said Aunt Marge loudly, seizing the brandy bottle and splashing more into her glass and over the tablecloth, "you never told me what he did?"**

**Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were looking extremely tense. Dudley had even looked up from his pie to gape at his parents.**

"**He — didn't work," said Uncle Vernon, with half a glance at Harry. "Unemployed."**

"**As I expected!" said Aunt Marge, taking a huge swig of brandy and wiping her chin on her sleeve. "A no-account, good-for-nothing, lazy scrounger who —"**

Harry covered Sirius's mouth with both hands but didn't help much.

"**He was not," said Harry suddenly. The table went very quiet. Harry was shaking all over. He had never felt so angry in his life.**

"**MORE BRANDY!" yelled Uncle Vernon, who had gone very white. He emptied the bottle into Aunt Marge's glass. "You, boy," he snarled at Harry. "Go to bed, go on —"**

"**No, Vernon," hiccupped Aunt Marge, holding up a hand, her tiny bloodshot eyes fixed on Harry's. "Go on, boy, go on. Proud of your parents, are you? They go and get themselves killed in a car crash (drunk, I expect) —"**

"HOW DARE SHE?" Sirius shouted.

""**They didn't die in a car crash!" said Harry, who found himself on his feet.**

"**They died in a car crash, you nasty little liar, and left you to be a burden on their decent, hardworking relatives!" screamed Aunt Marge, swelling with fury. "You are an insolent, ungrateful little —"**

**But Aunt Marge suddenly stopped speaking."**

"HA!" Harry yelled causing strange looks that made him think they thought he was a weirdo.

"**For a moment, it looked as though words had failed her. She seemed to be swelling with inexpressible anger — but the swelling didn't stop. Her great red face started to expand, her tiny eyes bulged, and her mouth stretched too tightly for speech — next second, several buttons had just burst from her tweed jacket and pinged off the walls — she was inflating like a monstrous balloon, her stomach bursting free of her tweed waistband, each of her fingers blowing up like a salami…"**

Many laughed.

""**MARGE!" yelled Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia together as Aunt Marge's whole body began to rise off her chair toward the ceiling. She was entirely round, now, like a vast life buoy with piggy eyes, and her hands and feet stuck out weirdly as she drifted up into the air, making apoplectic popping noises. Ripper came skidding into the room, barking madly.**

"**NOOOOOOO!"**

**Uncle Vernon seized one of Marge's feet and tried to pull her down again, but was almost lifted from the floor himself. A second later, Ripper leapt forward and sank his teeth into Uncle Vernon's leg."**

Harry fell on the ground clutching his stomach at the memory.

"**Harry tore from the dining room before anyone could stop him, heading for the cupboard under the stairs. The cupboard door burst magically open as he reached it. In seconds, he had heaved his trunk to the front door. He sprinted upstairs and threw himself under the bed, wrenching up the loose floorboard, and grabbed the pillowcase full of his books and birthday presents. He wriggled out, seized Hedwig's empty cage, and dashed back downstairs to his trunk, just as Uncle Vernon burst out of the dining room, his trouser leg in bloody tatters.**

"**COME BACK IN HERE!" he bellowed. "COME BACK AND PUT HER RIGHT!"**

**But a reckless rage had come over Harry. He kicked his trunk open, pulled out his wand, and pointed it at Uncle Vernon."**

"Harry!" Hermione and McGonagall yelled although they held signs of amusement in their voices.

"**She deserved it," Harry said, breathing very fast. "She deserved what she got. You keep away from me."**

**He fumbled behind him for the latch on the door.**

"**I'm going," Harry said. "I've had enough."**

**And in the next moment, he was out in the dark, quiet street, heaving his heavy trunk behind him, Hedwig's cage under his arm."**

"That's the end. Who's reading now?" Snape asked.

"I will," Said Sirius.

Snape threw the book at him violently.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

I don't own anything.

Chapter 3

Sirius cleared his throat and read.

"**Chapter three, The Knight Bus." **

"Wicked," Said Ron.

"No not," Said Harry.

"**Harry was several streets away before he collapsed onto a low wall in Magnolia Crescent, panting from the effort of dragging his trunk. He sat quite still, anger still surging through him, listening to the frantic thumping of his heart.**

**But after ten minutes alone in the dark street, a new emotion overtook him: panic. Whichever way he looked at it, he had never been in a worse fix. He was stranded, quite alone, in the dark Muggle world, with absolutely nowhere to go. And the worst of it was, he had just done serious magic, which meant that he was almost certainly expelled from Hogwarts. He had broken the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry so badly, he was surprised Ministry of Magic representatives weren't swooping down on him where he sat.**

**Harry shivered and looked up and down Magnolia Crescent.**

**What, was going to happen to him? Would he be arrested, or would he simply be outlawed from the wizarding world?"**

"Potter, you would not be arrested," Said Snape.

"**He thought of Ron and Hermione, and his heart sank even lower. Harry was sure that, criminal or not, Ron and Hermione would want to help him now, but they were both abroad, and with Hedwig gone, he had no means of contacting them.**

**He didn't have any Muggle money, either. There was a little wizard gold in the money bag at the bottom of his trunk, but the rest of the fortune his parents had left him was stored in a vault at Gringotts Wizarding Bank in London. He'd never be able to drag his trunk all the way to London. Unless…**

**He looked down at his wand, which he was still clutching in his hand. If he was already expelled (his heart was now thumping painfully fast), a bit more magic couldn't hurt. He had the Invisibility Cloak he had inherited from his father — what if he bewitched the trunk to make it feather-light, tied it to his broomstick, covered himself in the cloak, and flew to London? Then he could get the rest of his money out of his vault and… begin his life as an outcast."**

Harry laughed at the looks he got.

"**It was a horrible prospect, but he couldn't sit on this wall forever, or he'd find himself trying to explain to Muggle police why he was out in the dead of night with a trunk full of spell books and a broomstick.**

**Harry opened his trunk again and pushed the contents aside, looking for the Invisibility Cloak — but before he had found it, he straightened up suddenly, looking around him once more.**

**A funny prickling on the back of his neck had made Harry feel he was being watched, but the street appeared to be deserted, and no lights shone from any of the large square houses.**

**He bent over his trunk again, but almost immediately stood up once more, his hand clenched on his wand. He had sensed rather than heard it: someone or something was standing in the narrow gap between the garage and the fence behind him. Harry squinted at the black alleyway. If only it**

**would move, then he'd know whether it was just a stray cat or — something else.**

"**Lumos," Harry muttered, and a light appeared at the end of his wand, almost dazzling him. He held it high over his head, and the pebble-dashed walls of number two suddenly sparkled; the garage door gleamed, and between them Harry saw, quite distinctly, the hulking outline of something very big, with wide, gleaming eyes."**

"Oooo…." Fred and George said.

"**Harry stepped backward. His legs hit his trunk and he tripped. His wand flew out of his hand as he flung out an arm to break his fall, and he landed, hard, in the gutter.**

**There was a deafening BANG, and Harry threw up his hands to shield his eyes against a sudden blinding light…"**

"What is it?"

"**With a yell, he rolled back onto the pavement, just in time. A second later, a gigantic pair of wheels and headlights screeched to a halt exactly where Harry had just been lying. They belonged, as Harry saw when he raised his head, to a triple-decker, violently purple bus, which had appeared out of thin air. Gold lettering over the windshield spelled The Knight Bus."**

"Wicked."

"**For a split second, Harry wondered if he had been knocked silly by his fall. Then a conductor in a purple uniform leapt out of the bus and began to speak loudly to the night.**

"**Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this eve—"**

**The conductor stopped abruptly. He had just caught sight of Harry, who was still sitting on the ground. Harry snatched up his wand again and scrambled to his feet. Close up, he saw that Stan Shunpike was only a few years older than he was, eighteen or nineteen at most, with large, protruding ears and quite a few pimples.**

"**What were you doin' down there?" said Stan, dropping his professional manner.**

"**Fell over," said Harry.**

"'**Choo fall over for?" sniggered Stan.**

"**I didn't do it on purpose," said Harry, annoyed. One of the knees in his jeans was torn, and the hand he had thrown out to break his fall was bleeding. He suddenly remembered why he had fallen over and turned around quickly to stare at the alleyway between the garage and fence. The Knight Bus's headlamps were flooding it with light, and it was empty.**

"'**Choo lookin' at?" said Stan.**

"**There was a big black thing," said Harry, pointing uncertainly into the gap. "Like a dog… but massive…"**

**He looked around at Stan, whose mouth was slightly open. With a feeling of unease, Harry saw Stan's eyes move to the scar on Harry's forehead.**

"**Woss that on your 'ead?" said Stan abruptly.**

"**Nothing," said Harry quickly, flattening his hair over his scar. If the Ministry of Magic was looking for him, he didn't want to make it too easy for them.**

"**Woss your name?" Stan persisted.**

"**Neville Longbottom," said Harry, saying the first name that came into his head."**

"Neville Longbottom?" Most asked.

Harry shrugged.

"**So — so this bus," he went on quickly, hoping to distract Stan, "did you say it goes anywhere?"**

"**Yep," said Stan proudly, "anywhere you like, 'long it's on land. Can't do nuffink underwater.**

"**Ere," he said, looking suspicious again, "you did flag us down, dincha? Stuck out your wand 'and, dincha?"**

"**Yes," said Harry quickly. "Listen, how much would it be to get to London?"** **"Eleven Sickles," said Stan, "but for firteen you get 'ot chocolate, and for fifteen you get an 'ot-water bottle an' a toofbrush in the color of your choice."**

**Harry rummaged once more in his trunk, extracted his money bag, and shoved some gold into Stan's hand. He and Stan then lifted his trunk, with Hedwig's cage balanced on top, up the steps of the bus.**

**There were no seats; instead, half a dozen brass bedsteads stood beside the curtained windows. Candles were burning in brackets beside each bed, illuminating the wood-paneled walls. A tiny wizard in a nightcap at the rear of the bus muttered, "Not now, thanks, I'm pickling some slugs" and rolled over in his sleep.**

"**You 'ave this one," Stan whispered, shoving Harry's trunk under the bed right behind the driver, who was sitting in an armchair in front of the steering wheel. "This is our driver, Ernie Prang. This is Neville Longbottom, Ern."**

**Ernie Prang, an elderly wizard wearing very thick glasses, nodded to Harry, who nervously flattened his bangs again and sat down on his bed.**

"**Take'er away, Ern," said Stan, sitting down in the armchair next to Ernie's.**

**There was another tremendous BANG, and the next moment Harry found himself flat on his bed, thrown backward by the speed of the Knight Bus. Pulling himself up, Harry stared out of the dark window and saw that they were now bowling along a completely different street. Stan was watching Harry's stunned face with great enjoyment.**

"**This is where we was before you flagged us down," he said. "Where are we, Ern? Somewhere in Wales?"**

"**Ar," said Ernie.**

"**How come the Muggles don't hear the bus?" said Harry.**

"**Them!" said Stan contemptuously. "Don' listen properly, do they? Don' look properly either. Never notice nuffink, they don'."**

"**Best go wake up Madam Marsh, Stan," said Ern. "We'll be in Abergavenny in a minute."**

**Stan passed Harry's bed and disappeared up a narrow wooden staircase. Harry was still looking out of the window, feeling increasingly nervous. Ernie didn't seem to have mastered the use of a steering wheel. The Knight Bus kept mounting the pavement, but it didn't hit anything; lines of lampposts, mailboxes, and trash cans jumped out of its way as it approached and back into position once it had passed.**

**Stan came back downstairs, followed by a faintly green witch wrapped in a traveling cloak.**

"'**Ere you go, Madam Marsh," said Stan happily as Ern stamped on the brake and the beds slid a foot or so toward the front of the bus. Madam Marsh clamped a handkerchief to her mouth and tottered down the steps. Stan threw her bag out after her and rammed the doors shut; there was another loud BANG, and they were thundering down a narrow country lane, trees leaping out of the way.**

**Harry wouldn't have been able to sleep even if he had been traveling on a bus that didn't keep banging loudly and jumping a hundred miles at a time. His stomach churned as he fell back to wondering what was going to happen to him, and whether the Dursleys had managed to get Aunt Marge off the ceiling yet.**

**Stan had unfurled a copy of the Daily Prophet and was now reading with his tongue between his teeth. A large photograph of a sunken-faced man with long, matted hair blinked slowly at Harry from the front page. He looked strangely familiar.**

"**That man!" Harry said, forgetting his troubles for a moment. "He was on the Muggle news!"**

**Stanley turned to the front page and chuckled.**

"**Sirius Black," he said, nodding. "'Course 'e was on the Muggle news, Neville. Where you been?"**

Sirius looked at him.

"**He gave a superior sort of chuckle at the blank look on Harry's face, removed the front page, and handed it to Harry.**

"**You oughta read the papers more, Neville."**

**Harry held the paper up to the candlelight and read:**

**BLACK STILL AT LARGE**

**Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still eluding capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today.**

"**We are doing all we can to recapture Black," said the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, this morning, "and we beg the magical community to remain calm."**

**Fudge has been criticized by some members of the International Federation of Warlocks for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis.**

"**Well, really, I had to, don't you know," said an irritable Fudge. "Black is mad. He's a danger to anyone who crosses him, magic or Muggle. I have the Prime Minister's assurance that he will not breathe a word of Black's true identity to anyone. And let's face it — who'd believe him if he did?"**

**While Muggles have been told that Black is carrying a gun (a kind of metal wand that Muggles use to kill each other), the magical community lives in fear of a massacre like that of twelve years ago, when Black murdered thirteen people with a single curse."**

Sirius said the news article he'd seen a million times in a mocking voice.

"**Harry looked into the shadowed eyes of Sirius Black, the only part of the sunken face that seemed alive. Harry had never met a vampire, but he had seen pictures of them in his Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, and Black, with his waxy white skin, looked just like one."**

Sirius mocked a vampire.

""**Scary-lookin' fing, inee?" said Stan, who had been watching Harry read.**

"**He murdered thirteen people?" said Harry, handing the page back to Stan, "with one curse?"**

"**Yep," said Stan, "in front of witnesses an' all. Broad daylight. Big trouble it caused, dinnit, Ern?"**

"**Ar," said Ern darkly.**

**Stan swiveled in his armchair, his hands on the back, the better to look at Harry.**

"**Black woz a big supporter of You-Know-'Oo," he said."**

"Yes, yes I was. Me and Voldemort were good buddies," Said Sirius.

"**What, Voldemort?" said Harry, without thinking.**

**Even Stan's pimples went white; Ern jerked the steering wheel so hard that a whole farmhouse had to jump aside to avoid the bus.**

"**You outta your tree?" yelped Stan. "'Choo say 'is name for?"**

"**Sorry," said Harry hastily. "Sorry, I — I forgot —"**

"**Forgot!" said Stan weakly. "Blimey, my 'eart's goin' that fast…"**

"**So — so Black was a supporter of You-Know-Who?" Harry prompted apologetically.**

"**Yeah," said Stan, still rubbing his chest. "Yeah, that's right. Very close to You-Know-'Oo, they say… anyway, when little 'Arry Potter got the better of You-Know-'Oo" — Harry nervously flattened his bangs down again — "all You-Know-'Oo's supporters was tracked down, wasn't they, Ern? Most of 'em knew it was all over, wiv You-Know-'Oo gone, and they came quiet. But not Sirius Black. I 'eard he thought 'e'd be second-in-command once You-Know-'Oo 'ad** **taken over.**

"**Anyway, they cornered Black in the middle of a street full of Muggles an' Black took out 'is wand and 'e blasted 'alf the street apart, an' a wizard got it, an' so did a dozen Muggles what got in the way. 'Orrible, eh? An' you know what Black did then?" Stan continued in a dramatic whisper.**

"**What?" said Harry.**

"**Laughed," said Stan. "Jus' stood there an' laughed. An' when reinforcements from the Ministry of Magic got there, 'e went wiv em quiet as anyfink, still laughing 'is 'ead off. 'Cos 'e's mad, inee, Ern? Inee mad?"**

"**If he weren't when he went to Azkaban, he will be now," said Ern in his slow voice. "I'd blow meself up before I set foot in that place. Serves him right, mind you… after what he did…"**

"**They 'ad a job coverin' it up, din' they, Ern?" Stan said. "'Ole street blown up an' all them Muggles dead. What was it they said 'ad 'appened, Ern?"**

"**Gas explosion," grunted Ernie.**

"**An' now 'e's out," said Stan, examining the newspaper picture of Black's gaunt face again. "Never been a breakout from Azkaban before, 'as there, Ern? Beats me 'ow 'e did it. Frightenin', eh? Mind, I don't fancy 'is chances against them Azkaban guards, eh, Ern?"**

**Ernie suddenly shivered. "Talk about summat else, Stan, there's a good lad. Them Azkaban guards give me the collywobbles."**

**Stan put the paper away reluctantly, and Harry leaned against the window of the Knight Bus, feeling worse than ever. He couldn't help imagining what Stan might be telling his passengers in a few nights' time.**

"'**Ear about that 'Arry Potter? Blew up 'is aunt! We 'ad 'im 'ere on the Knight Bus, di'n't we, Ern? 'E was tryin' to run for it…"**

"**He, Harry, had broken wizard law just like Sirius Black."**

"Harry, I killed thirteen people you blew up your aunt," Said Sirius.

"**Was inflating Aunt Marge bad enough to land him in Azkaban? Harry didn't know anything about the wizard prison, though everyone he'd ever heard speak of it did so in the same fearful tone. Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper, had spent two months there only last year. Harry wouldn't soon forget the look of terror on Hagrid's face when he had been told where he was going, and Hagrid was one of the bravest people Harry knew.**

**The Knight Bus rolled through the darkness, scattering bushes and wastebaskets, telephone booths and trees, and Harry lay, restless and miserable, on his feather bed. After a while, Stan remembered that Harry had paid for hot chocolate, but poured it all over Harry's pillow when the bus moved abruptly from Anglesea to Aberdeen. One by one, wizards and witches in dressing gowns and slippers descended from the upper floors to leave the bus. They all looked very pleased to go.**

**Finally, Harrywas the only passenger left.**

"**Right then, Neville," said Stan, clapping his hands, "whereabouts in London?"**

"**Diagon Alley," said Harry.**

"**Righto," said Stan. "'Old tight, then."**

**BANG.**

**They were thundering along Charing Cross Road. Harry sat up and watched buildings and benches squeezing themselves out of the Knight Bus's way. The sky was getting a little lighter. He would lie low for a couple of hours, go to Gringotts the moment it opened, then set off — where, he didn't know.**

**Ern slammed on the brakes and the Knight Bus skidded to a halt in front of a small and shabby-looking pub, the Leaky Cauldron, behind which lay the magical entrance to Diagon Alley.**

"**Thanks," Harry said to Ern.**

**He jumped down the steps and helped Stan lower his trunk and Hedwig's cage onto the pavement.**

"**Well," said Harry. "Bye then!"**

**But Stan wasn't paying attention. Still standing in the doorway to the bus he was goggling at the shadowy entrance to the Leaky Cauldron.**

"**There you are, Harry," said a voice.**

**Before Harry could turn, he felt a hand on his shoulder. At the same time, Stan shouted, "Blimey! Ern, come 'ere! Come 'ere!"**

**Harry looked up at the owner of the hand on his shoulder and felt a bucketful of ice cascade into his stomach — he had walked right into Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic himself."**

"Da da daaaa!" Said Fred and George like an old muggle movie.

"**Stan leapt onto the pavement beside them.**

"**What didja call Neville, Minister?" he said excitedly.**

**Fudge, a portly little man in a long, pinstriped cloak, looked cold and exhausted.**

"**Neville?" he repeated, frowning. "This is Harry Potter."**

"**I knew it!" Stan shouted gleefully. "Ern! Ern! Guess 'oo Neville is, Ern! 'E's 'Arry Potter! I can see 'is scar!"**

"**Yes," said Fudge testily, "well, I'm very glad the Knight Bus picked Harry up, but he and I need to step inside the Leaky Cauldron now…"**

**Fudge increased the pressure on Harry's shoulder, and Harry found himself being steered inside the pub. A stooping figure bearing a lantern appeared through the door behind the bar. It was Tom, the wizened, toothless landlord.**

"**You've got him, Minister!" said Tom. "Will you be wanting anything? Beer? Brandy?"**

"**Perhaps a pot of tea," said Fudge, who still hadn't let go of Harry.**

**There was a loud scraping and puffing from behind them, and Stan and Ern appeared, carrying Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage and looking around excitedly.**

"'**Ow come you di'n't tell us 'oo you are, eh, Neville?" said Stan, beaming at Harry, while Ernie's owlish face peered interestedly over Stan's shoulder.**

"**And a private parlor, please, Tom," said Fudge pointedly.**

"**Bye," Harry said miserably to Stan and Ern as Tom beckoned Fudge toward the passage that led from the bar.**

"**Bye, Neville!" called Stan.**

**Fudge marched Harry along the narrow passage after Tom's lantern, and then into a small parlor. Tom clicked his fingers, a fire burst into life in the grate, and he bowed himself out of the room.**

"**Sit down, Harry," said Fudge, indicating a chair by the fire.**

**Harry sat down, feeling goose bumps rising up his arms despite the glow of the fire. Fudge took off his pinstriped cloak and tossed it aside, then hitched up the trousers of his bottle-green suit and sat down opposite Harry.**

"**I am Cornelius Fudge, Harry. The Minister of Magic."**

"No your Sirius Black," Said Fred.

"**Harry already knew this, of course; he had seen Fudge once before, but as he had been wearing his father's Invisibility Cloak at the time, Fudge wasn't to know that."**

"Invisibility cloak?" McGonagall, Fred, and George asked although McGonagall did not have an evil gleam in her eyes.

Harry nodded and motioned for Sirius to start reading before further could be said.

"**Tom the innkeeper reappeared, wearing an apron over his nightshirt and bearing a tray of tea and crumpets. He placed the tray on a table between Fudge and Harry and left the parlor, closing the door behind him.**

"**Well, Harry," said Fudge, pouring out tea, "you've had us all in a right flap, I don't mind telling you. Running away from your aunt and uncle's house like that! I'd started to think… but you're safe, and that's what matters."**

**Fudge buttered himself a crumpet and pushed the plate toward Harry.**

"**Eat, Harry, you look dead on your feet. Now then… You will be pleased to hear that we have dealt with the unfortunate blowing-up of Miss Marjorie Dursley. Two members of the Accidental Magic Reversal Department were dispatched to Privet Drive a few hours ago. Miss Dursley has been punctured and her memory has been modified. She has no recollection of the incident at all. So that's that, and no harm done."**

**Fudge smiled at Harry over the rim of his teacup, rather like an uncle surveying a favorite nephew. Harry, who couldn't believe his ears, opened his mouth to speak, couldn't think of anything to say, and closed it again.**

"**Ah, you're worrying about the reaction of your aunt and uncle?" said Fudge. "Well, I won't deny that they are extremely angry, Harry, but they are prepared to take you back next summer as long as you stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas and Easter holidays."**

**Harry unstuck his throat.**

"**I always stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas and Easter holidays," he said, "and I don't ever want to go back to Privet Drive."**

"**Now, now, I'm sure you'll feel differently once you've calmed down,"**

"No I won't," Said Harry.

**said Fudge in a worried tone. "They are your family, after all, and I'm sure you are fond of each other — er — very deep down."**

Harry, Fred, and George snorted.

"**It didn't occur to Harry to put Fudge right. He was still waiting to hear what was going to happen to him now.**

"**So all that remains," said Fudge, now buttering himself a second crumpet, "is to decide where you're going to spend the last two weeks of your vacation. I suggest you take a room here at the Leaky Cauldron and…"**

"**Hang on," blurted Harry. "What about my punishment?"**

**Fudge blinked. "Punishment?"**

"**I broke the law!" Harry said. "The Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry!"**

"**Oh, my dear boy, we're not going to punish you for a little thing like that!" cried Fudge, waving his crumpet impatiently. "It was an accident! We don't send people to Azkaban just for blowing up their aunts!"**

"Just because it was me," Harry muttered.

**But this didn't tally at all with Harry's past dealings with the Ministry of Magic.**

"**Last year, I got an official warning just because a house-elf smashed a pudding in my uncle's house!"**

"Dobby!" Harry said.

"The Malfoy's house elf?" Snape asked.

"Yes," Said Harry.

"**he told Fudge, frowning. "The Ministry of Magic said I'd be expelled from Hogwarts if there was any more magic there!"**

**Unless Harry's eyes were deceiving him, Fudge was suddenly looking awkward.**

"**Circumstances change, Harry… We have to take into account… in the present climate… Surely you don't want to be expelled?"**

"**Of course I don't," said Harry.**

"**Well then, what's all the fuss about?" laughed Fudge. "Now, have a crumpet, Harry, while I go and see if Tom's got a room for you."**

**Fudge strode out of the parlor and Harry stared after him. There was something extremely odd going on. Why had Fudge been waiting for him at the Leaky Cauldron, if not to punish him for what he'd done? And now Harry came to think of it, surely it wasn't usual for the Minister of Magic himself to get involved in matters of underage magic?"**

"It was just because I'm the boy who lived," Said Harry angrily.

**Fudge came back, accompanied by Tom the innkeeper.**

"**Room eleven's free, Harry," said Fudge. "I think you'll be very comfortable just one thing, and I'm sure you'll understand… I don't want you wandering off into Muggle London, all right? Keep to Diagon Alley. And you're to be back here before dark each night. Sure you'll understand. Tom will be keeping an eye on you for me."**

"**Okay," said Harry slowly, "but why?"**

"**Don't want to lose you again, do we?" said Fudge with a hearty laugh. "No, no… best we know where you are… I mean…"**

**Fudge cleared his throat loudly and picked up his pinstriped cloak.**

"**Well, I'll be off, plenty to do, you know…"**

"**Have you had any luck with Black yet?" Harry asked.**

**Fudge's finger slipped on the silver fastenings of his cloak.**

"**What's that? Oh, you've heard - well, no, not yet, but it's only a matter of time. The Azkaban guards have never yet failed… and they are angrier than I've ever seen them."**

**Fudge shuddered slightly.**

"**So, I'll say good-bye."**

**He held out his hand and Harry, shaking it, had a sudden idea.** **"Er — Minister? Can I ask you something?"**

"**Certainly," said Fudge with a smile.**

"**Well, third years at Hogwarts are allowed to visit Hogsmeade, but my aunt and uncle didn't sign the permission form. D'you think you could —?"**

**Fudge was looking uncomfortable.**

"**Ah," he said. "No, no, I'm very sorry, Harry, but as I'm not your parent or guardian —"**

"**But you're the Minister of Magic," said Harry eagerly. "If you gave me permission…"**

"**No, I'm sorry, Harry, but rules are rules," said Fudge flatly."**

"Nice try," Said Sirius.

"**Perhaps you'll be able to visit Hogsmeade next year. In fact, I think it's best if you don't… yes… well, I'll be off. Enjoy your stay, Harry."**

**And with a last smile and shake of Harry's hand, Fudge left the room. Tom now moved forward, beaming at Harry.**

"**If you'll follow me, Mr. Potter," he said, "I've already taken your things up…"**

**Harry followed Tom up a handsome wooden staircase to a door with a brass number eleven on it, which Tom unlocked and opened for him.**

**Inside was a very comfortable-looking bed, some highly polished oak furniture, a cheerfully crackling fire and, perched on top of the wardrobe —**

"**Hedwig!" Harry gasped.**

**The snowy owl clicked her beak and fluttered down onto Harry's arm.**

"**Very smart owl you've got there," chuckled Tom. "Arrived about five minutes after you did. If there's anything you need, Mr. Potter, don't hesitate to ask."**

**He gave another bow and left.**

**Harry sat on his bed for a long time, absentmindedly stroking Hedwig. The sky outside the window was changing rapidly from deep, velvety blue to cold, steely gray and then, slowly, to pink shot with gold. Harry could hardly believe that he'd left Privet Drive only a few hours ago, that he wasn't expelled, and that he was now facing two completely Dursley-free weeks.**

"**It's been a very weird night, Hedwig," he yawned.**

**And without even removing his glasses, he slumped back onto his pillows and fell asleep."**

"That's the end. Who next?" Sirius asked.

"I will," said Hermione.

Sirius handed the book to her to read.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

To Snape Lover 1981, I might add more characters I'm not sure yet.

Thanks for reading.

I don't own anything.

Chapter 4

Hermione began to read.

"**Chapter four, The Leaky Cauldron**

**It took Harry several days to get used to his strange new freedom. Never before had he been able to get up whenever he wanted or eat whatever he fancied. He could even go wherever he pleased, as long as it was in Diagon Alley, and as this long cobbled street was packed with the most fascinating wizarding shops in the world, Harry felt no desire to break his word to Fudge and stray back into the Muggle world.**

**Harry ate breakfast each morning in the Leaky Cauldron, where he liked watching the other guests: funny little witches from the country, up for a day's shopping; venerable-looking wizards arguing over the latest article in Transfiguration Today; wild-looking warlocks; raucous dwarfs; and once, what looked suspiciously like a hag, who ordered a plate of raw liver from behind a thick woolen balaclava."**

"Eww."

"**After breakfast Harry would go out into the backyard, take out his wand, tap the third brick from the left above the trash bin, and stand back as the archway into Diagon Alley opened in the wall.**

**Harry spent the long sunny days exploring the shops and eating under the brightly colored umbrellas outside cafes, where his fellow diners were showing one another their purchases ("It's a lunascope, old boy — no more messing around with moon charts, see?") or else discussing the case of Sirius Black ("Personally, I won't let any of the children out alone until he's back in Azkaban"). Harry didn't have to do his homework under the blankets by flashlight anymore; now he could sit in the bright sunshine outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, finishing all his essays with occasional help from Florean Fortescue himself, who, apart from knowing a great deal about medieval witch burnings, gave Harry free sundaes every half an hour.**

**Once Harry had refilled his money bag with gold Galleons, silver Sickles, and bronze Knuts from his vault at Gringotts, he had to exercise a lot of self-control not to spend the whole lot at once. He had to keep reminding himself that he had five years to go at Hogwarts, and how it would feel to ask the Dursleys for money for spellbooks, to stop himself from buying a handsome set of solid gold Gobstones (a wizarding game rather like marbles, in which the stones squirt a nasty-smelling liquid into the other player's face when they lose a point). He was sorely tempted, too, by the perfect, moving model of the galaxy in a large glass ball, which would have meant he never had to take another Astronomy lesson. But the thing that tested Harry's resolution most appeared in his favorite shop, Quality Quidditch Supplies, a week after he'd arrived at the Leaky Cauldron.**

**Curious to know what the crowd in the shop was staring at, Harry edged his way inside and squeezed in among the excited witches and wizards until he glimpsed a newly erected podium, on which was mounted the most magnificent broom he had ever seen in his life.**

"**Just come out — prototype —" a square-jawed wizard was telling his companion.**

"**It's the fastest broom in the world, isn't it, Dad?" squeaked a boy younger than Harry, who was swinging off his father's arm.**

"**Irish International Side's just put in an order for seven of these beauties!" the proprietor of the shop told the crowd. "And they're favorites for the World Cup!"**

**A large witch in front of Harry moved, and he was able to read the sign next to the broom:**

**** THE FIREBOLT **"**

"Wicked."

"**THIS STATE-OF-THE-ART RACING BROOM SPORTS A STREAM-LINED, SUPERFINE HANDLE OF ASH, TREATED WITH A DIAMOND-HARD POLISH AND HAND-NUMBERED WITH ITS OWN REGISTRATION NUMBER. EACH INDIVIDUALLY SELECTED BIRCH TWIG IN THE BROOMTAIL HAS BEEN HONED TO AERODYNAMIC PERFECTION, GIVING THE FIREBOLT UNSURPASSABLE BALANCE AND PINPOINT PRECISION. THE FIREBOLT HAS AN ACCELERATION OF 150 MILES AN HOUR IN TEN SECONDS AND INCORPORATES AN UNBREAKABLE BRAKING CHARM. PRICE ON REQUEST.**

**Price on request… Harry didn't like to think how much gold the Firebolt would cost. He had never wanted anything as much in his whole life — but he had never lost a Quidditch match on his Nimbus Two Thousand, and what was the point in emptying his Gringotts vault for the Firebolt, when he had a very good broom already? Harry didn't ask for the price, but he returned, almost every day after that, just to look at the Firebolt.**

**There were, however, things that Harry needed to buy. He went to the Apothecary to replenish his store of potions ingredients, and as his school robes were now several inches too short in the arm and leg, he visited Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and bought new ones. Most important of all, he had to buy his new schoolbooks, which would include those for his two new subjects, Care of Magical Creatures and Divination."**

"Divination," Said McGonagall in discuss.

"**Harry got a surprise as he looked in at the bookshop window. Instead of the usual display of gold-embossed spellbooks the size of paving slabs, there was a large iron cage behind the glass that held about a hundred copies of The Monster Book of Monsters. Torn pages were flying everywhere as the books grappled with each other, locked together in furious wrestling matches and snapping aggressively.**

**Harry pulled his booklist out of his pocket and consulted it for the first time. The Monster Book of Monsters was listed as the required book for Care of Magical Creatures. Now Harry understood why Hagrid had said it would come in useful. He felt relieved; he had been wondering whether Hagrid wanted help with some terrifying new pet.**

**As Harry entered Flourish and Blotts, the manager came hurrying toward him.**

"**Hogwarts?" he said abruptly. "Come to get your new books?"**

"**Yes," said Harry, "I need —"**

"**Get out of the way," said the manager impatiently, brushing Harry aside. He drew on a pair of very thick gloves, picked up a large, knobbly walking stick, and proceeded toward the door of the Monster Books' cage.**

"**Hang on," said Harry quickly, "I've already got one of those."**

"**Have you?" A look of enormous relief spread over the manager's face. "Thank heavens for that. I've been bitten five times already this morning —"**

**A loud ripping noise rent the air; two of the Monster Books had seized a third and were pulling it apart.**

"**Stop it! Stop it!" cried the manager, poking the walking stick through the bars and knocking the books apart. "I'm never stocking them again, never! It's been bedlam! I thought we'd seen the worst when we bought two hundred copies of the Invisible Book of Invisibility — cost a fortune, and we never found them… Well… is there anything else I can help you with?"**

"**Yes," said Harry, looking down his booklist, "I need Unfogging the Future by Cassandra Vablatsky."**

"**Ah, starting Divination, are you?" said the manager, stripping off his gloves and leading Harry into the back of the shop, where there was a corner devoted to fortune-telling. A small table was stacked with volumes such as Predicting the Unpredictable: Insulate Yourself Against Shocks and Broken Balls: When Fortunes Turn Foul.**

"**Here you are," said the manager, who had climbed a set of steps to take down a thick, black-bound book. "Unfogging the Future. Very good guide to all your basic fortune-telling methods — palmistry, crystal balls, bird entrails."**

**But Harry wasn't listening. His eyes had fallen on another book, which was among a display on a small table: Death Omens — What to Do When You Know the Worst Is Coming.**

"**Oh, I wouldn't read that if I were you," said the manager lightly, looking to see what Harry was staring at. "You'll start seeing death omens everywhere. It's enough to frighten anyone to death."**

**But Harry continued to stare at the front cover of the book; it showed a black dog large as a bear, with gleaming eyes. It looked oddly familiar…"**

Sirius laughed sounding like a barking dog.

"**The manager pressed Unfogging the Future into Harry's hands.**

"**Anything else?" he said.**

"**Yes," said Harry, tearing his eyes away from the dog's and dazedly consulting his booklist. "Er — I need Intermediate Transfiguration and The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Three."**

**Harry emerged from Flourish and Blotts ten minutes later with his new books under his arms and made his way back to the Leaky Cauldron, hardly noticing where he was going and bumping into several people.**

**He tramped up the stairs to his room, went inside, and tipped his books onto his bed. Somebody had been in to tidy; the windows were open and sun was pouring inside. Harry could hear the buses rolling by in the unseen Muggle street behind him and the sound of the invisible crowd below in Diagon Alley. He caught sight of himself in the mirror over the basin.**

"**It can't have been a death omen," he told his reflection defiantly. "I was panicking when I saw that thing in Magnolia Crescent… It was probably just a stray dog…"**

**He raised his hand automatically and tried to make his hair lie flat**

"**You're fighting a losing battle there, dear," said his mirror in a wheezy voice."**

"Ooh a talking mirror," Said Hermione.

"**As the days slipped by, Harry started looking wherever he went for a sign of Ron or Hermione. Plenty of Hogwarts students were arriving in Diagon Alley now, with the start of term so near. Harry met Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, his fellow Gryffindors, in Quality Quidditch Supplies, where they too were ogling the Firebolt; he also ran into the real Neville Longbottom, a round-faced, forgetful boy, outside Flourish and Blotts. Harry didn't stop to chat; Neville appeared to have mislaid his booklist and was being told off by his very formidable-looking grandmother. Harry hoped she never found out that he'd pretended to be Neville while on the run from the Ministry of Magic.**

**Harry woke on the last day of the holidays, thinking that he would at least meet Ron and Hermione tomorrow, on the Hogwarts Express. He got up, dressed, went for a last look at the Firebolt, and was just wondering where he'd have lunch, when someone yelled his name and he turned.**

"**Harry! HARRY!"**

**They were there, both of them, sitting outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor — Ron looking incredibly freckly, Hermione very brown, both waving frantically at him.**

"**Finally!" said Ron, grinning at Harry as he sat down. "We went to the Leaky Cauldron, but they said you'd left, and we went to Flourish and Blotts, and Madam Malkin's, and —"**

"**I got all my school stuff last week," Harry explained. "And how come you knew I'm staying at the Leaky Cauldron?"**

"**Dad," said Ron simply.**

**Mr. Weasley, who worked at the Ministry of Magic, would of course have heard the whole story of what had happened to Aunt Marge.**

"**Did you really blow up your aunt, Harry?" said Hermione in a very serious voice.**

"**I didn't mean to,"**

"I didn't mean to," Said George mockingly.

" **said Harry, while Ron roared with laughter. "I just — lost control."**

"**It's not funny, Ron," said Hermione sharply. "Honestly, I'm amazed Harry wasn't expelled."**

"**So am I," admitted Harry. "Forget expelled, I thought I was going to be arrested." He looked at Ron. "Your dad doesn't know why Fudge let me off, does he?"**

"**Probably 'cause it's you, isn't it?" shrugged Ron, still chuckling. "Famous Harry Potter and all that. I'd hate to see what the Ministry'd do to me if I blew up an aunt. Mind you, they'd have to dig me up first, because Mum would've killed me. Anyway, you can ask Dad yourself this evening. We're staying at the Leaky Cauldron tonight too! So you can come to King's Cross with us tomorrow! Hermione's there as well!"**

**Hermione nodded, beaming. "Mum and Dad dropped me off this morning with all my Hogwarts things."**

"**Excellent!" said Harry happily. "So, have you got all your new books and stuff?"**

"**Look at this," said Ron, pulling a long thin box out of a bag and opening it. "Brand-new wand. Fourteen inches, willow, containing one unicorn tail-hair. And we've got all our books —" He pointed at a large bag under his chair. "What about those Monster Books, eh? The assistant nearly cried when we said we wanted two."**

"**What's all that, Hermione?" Harry asked, pointing at not one but three bulging bags in the chair next to her.**

"**Well, I'm taking more new subjects than you, aren't I," said Hermione. "Those are my books for Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, the Study of Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies —"**

"**What are you doing Muggle Studies for?" said Ron, rolling his eyes at Harry. "You're Muggle-born! Your mum and dad are Muggles! You already know all about Muggles!"**

"**But it'll be fascinating to study them from the wizarding point of view," said Hermione earnestly."**

Everyone stared at Hermione.

"**Are you planning to eat or sleep at all this year, Hermione?" asked Harry, while Ron sniggered. Hermione ignored them.**

"**I've still got ten Galleons," she said, checking her purse. "It's my birthday in September, and Mum and Dad gave me some money to get myself an early birthday present."**

"**How about a nice book? said Ron innocently.**

"**No, I don't think so," said Hermione composedly. "I really want an owl. I mean, Harry's got Hedwig and you've got Errol —"**

"**I haven't," said Ron. "Errol's a family owl. All I've got is Scabbers."**

Sirius and Harry could be heard muttering things like "traitor" and "coward" under their breath.

"**He pulled his pet rat out of his pocket. "And I want to get him checked over," he added, placing Scabbers on the table in front of them. "I don't think Egypt agreed with him."**

"He knew I was free," Said Sirius.

"**Scabbers was looking thinner than usual, and there was a definite droop to his whiskers.**

"**There's a magical creature shop just over there," said Harry, who knew Diagon Alley very well by now. "You could see if they've got anything for Scabbers, and Hermione can get her owl."**

**So they paid for their ice cream and crossed the street to the Magical Menagerie.**

**There wasn't much room inside. Every inch of wall was hidden by cages. It was smelly and very noisy because the occupants of these cages were all squeaking, squawking, jabbering, or hissing. The witch behind the counter was already advising a wizard on the care of double-ended newts, so Harry, Ron, and Hermione waited, examining the cages.**

**A pair of enormous purple toads sat gulping wetly and feasting on dead blowflies. A gigantic tortoise with a jewel-encrusted shell was glittering near the window. Poisonous orange snails were oozing slowly up the side of their glass tank, and a fat white rabbit kept changing into a silk top hat and back again with a loud popping noise. Then there were cats of every color, a noisy cage of ravens, a basket of funny custard-colored furballs that were humming loudly, and on the counter, a vast cage of sleek black rats that were playing some sort of skipping game using their long, bald tails.**

**The double-ended newt wizard left, and Ron approached the counter.**

"**It's my rat," he told the witch. "He's been a bit off-color ever since I brought him back from Egypt."**

"**Bang him on the counter," said the witch, pulling a pair of heavy black spectacles out of her pocket.**

**Ron lifted Scabbers out of his inside pocket and placed him next to the cage of his fellow rats, who stopped their skipping tricks and scuffled to the wire for a better took.**

**Like nearly everything Ron owned, Scabbers the rat was secondhand (he had once belonged to Ron's brother Percy) and a bit battered. Next to the glossy rats in the cage, he looked especially woebegone.**

"**Hm," said the witch, picking up Scabbers. "How old is this rat?"**

"**Dunno," said Ron. "Quite old. He used to belong to my brother."**

"**What powers does he have?" said the witch, examining Scabbers closely.**

"**Er —" The truth was that Scabbers had never shown the faintest trace of interesting powers. The witch's eyes moved from Scabbers's tattered left ear to his front paw, which had a toe missing,"**

Sirius and Harry growled.

"**and tutted loudly.**

"**He's been through the mill, this one," she said.**

"**He was like that when Percy gave him to me," said Ron defensively.**

"**An ordinary common or garden rat like this can't be expected to live longer than three years or so," said the witch. "Now, if you were looking for something a bit more hard-wearing, you might like one of these —"**

**She indicated the black rats, who promptly started skipping again. Ron muttered, "Show-offs."**

"**Well, if you don't want a replacement, you can try this rat tonic," said the witch, reaching under the counter and bringing out a small red bottle.**

"**Okay," said Ron. "How much — OUCH!"**

**Ron buckled as something huge and orange came soaring from the top of the highest cage, landed on his head, and then propelled itself, spitting madly, at Scabbers.**

"**NO, CROOKSHANKS, NO!"**

"Good cat," Said Harry and Sirius.

"**cried the witch, but Scabbers shot from between her hands like a bar of soap, landed splay-legged on the floor, and then scampered for the door.**

"**Scabbers!" Ron shouted, racing out of the shop after him; Harry followed.**

**It took them nearly ten minutes to catch Scabbers, who had taken refuge under a wastepaper bin outside Quality Quidditch Supplies. Ron stuffed the trembling rat back into his pocket and straightened up, massaging his head.**

"**What was that?"**

"**It was either a very big cat or quite a small tiger," said Harry."**

They laughed.

"**Where's Hermione?"**

"**Probably getting her owl."**

**They made their way back up the crowded street to the Magical Menagerie. As they reached it, Hermione came out, but she wasn't carrying an owl. Her arms were clamped tightly around the enormous ginger cat.**

"**You bought that monster?"**

"He isn't a monster," Said Hermione.

"**said Ron, his mouth hanging open.**

"**He's gorgeous, isn't he?" said Hermione, glowing.**

**That was a matter of opinion, thought Harry. The cat's ginger fur was thick and fluffy, but it was definitely a bit bowlegged and its face looked grumpy and oddly squashed, as though it had run headlong into a brick wall. Now that Scabbers was out of sight, however, the cat was purring contentedly in Hermione's arms.**

"**Hermione, that thing nearly scalped me!" said Ron.**

"**He didn't mean to, did you, Crookshanks?" said Hermione.**

"**And what about Scabbers?" said Ron, pointing at the lump in his chest pocket. "He needs rest and relaxation! How's he going to get it with that thing around?"**

"**That reminds me, you forgot your rat tonic," said Hermione, slapping the small red bottle into Ron's hand. "And stop worrying, Crookshanks will be sleeping in my dormitory and Scabbers in yours, what's the problem? Poor Crookshanks, that witch said he'd been in there for ages; no one wanted him."**

"**Wonder why," said Ron sarcastically as they set off toward the Leaky Cauldron.**

**They found Mr. Weasley sitting in the bar, reading the Daily Prophet.**

"**Harry!" he said, smiling as he looked up. "How are you?"**

"**Fine, thanks," said Harry as he, Ron, and Hermione joined Mr. Weasley with their shopping.**

**Mr. Weasley put down his paper, and Harry saw the now familiar picture of Sirius Black staring up at him.**

"**They still haven't caught him, then?" he asked.**

"**No," said Mr. Weasley, looking extremely grave. "They've pulled us all off our regular jobs at the Ministry to try and find him, but no luck so far."**

"**Would we get a reward if we caught him?" asked Ron. "It'd be good to get some more money —"**

"**Don't be ridiculous, Ron," said Mr. Weasley, who on closer inspection looked very strained. "Black's not going to be caught by a thirteen-year-old wizard. It's the Azkaban guards who'll get him back, you mark my words."**

Sirius snorted.

"**At that moment Mrs. Weasley entered the bar, laden with shopping bags and followed by the twins, Fred and George, who were about to start their fifth year at Hogwarts; the newly elected Head Boy, Percy; and the Weasleys' youngest child and only girl, Ginny.**

**Ginny, who had always been very taken with Harry, seemed even more heartily embarrassed than usual when she saw him, perhaps because he had saved her life during their previous year at Hogwarts. She went very red and muttered "hello" without looking at him. Percy, however, held out his hand solemnly as though he and Harry had never met and said, "Harry. How nice to see you."**

"Git," Said Fred, George, and Ron.

"**Hello, Percy," said Harry, trying not to laugh.**

"**I hope you're well?" said Percy pompously, shaking hands. It was rather like being introduced to the mayor.**

"**Very well, thanks —"**

"**Harry!" said Fred, elbowing Percy out of the way and bowing deeply. "Simply splendid to see you, old boy —"**

"**Marvelous," said George, pushing Fred aside and seizing Harry's hand in turn. "Absolutely spiffing."**

**Percy scowled.**

"**That's enough, now," said Mrs. Weasley.**

"**Mum!" said Fred, as though he'd only just spotted her and seizing her hand, too. "How really corking to see you —"**

"**I said, that's enough," said Mrs. Weasley, depositing her shopping in an empty chair. "Hello, Harry, dear. I suppose you've heard our exciting news?" She pointed to the brand-new silver badge on Percy's chest. "Second Head Boy in the family!" she said, swelling with pride.**

"**And last," Fred muttered under his breath.**

"**I don't doubt that," said Mrs. Weasley, frowning suddenly. "I notice they haven't made you two prefects."**

"**What do we want to be prefects for?" said George, looking revolted at the very idea. "It'd take all the fun out of life."**

**Ginny giggled.**

"**You want to set a better example for your sister!" snapped Mrs. Weasley.**

"**Ginny's got other brothers to set her an example, Mother," said Percy loftily. "I'm going up to change for dinner…"**

**He disappeared and George heaved a sigh.**

"**We tried to shut him in a pyramid," he told Harry. "But Mum spotted us."**

"I wish she hadn't," Said Fred.

"**Dinner that night was a very enjoyable affair. Tom the innkeeper put three tables together in the parlor, and the seven Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione ate their way through five delicious courses.**

"**How're we getting to King's Cross tomorrow, Dad?" asked Fred as they dug into a sumptuous chocolate pudding.**

"**The Ministry's providing a couple of cars," said Mr. Weasley.**

**Everyone looked up at him.**

"**Why?" said Percy curiously.**

"**It's because of you, Perce," said George seriously. "And there'll be little flags on the hoods, with HB on them—"**

"— **for Humongous Bighead," said Fred."**

Many laughed or snorted.

"**Everyone except Percy and Mrs. Weasley snorted into their pudding.**

"**Why are the Ministry providing cars, Father?" Percy asked again, in a dignified voice.**

"**Well, as we haven't got one anymore," said Mr. Weasley, "and as I work there, they're doing me a favor…"**

**His voice was casual, but Harry couldn't help noticing that Mr. Wesley's ears had gone red, just like Ron's did when he was under pressure.**

"**Good thing, too," said Mrs. Weasley briskly. "Do you realize how much luggage you've all got between you? A nice sight you'd be on the Muggle Underground… You are all packed, aren't you?"**

"**Ron hasn't put all his new things in his trunk yet," said Percy, in a long-suffering voice. "He's dumped them on my bed."**

"**You'd better go and pack properly, Ron, because we won't have much time in the morning," Mrs. Weasley called down the table. Ron scowled at Percy.**

**After dinner everyone felt very full and sleepy. One by one they made their way upstairs to their rooms to check their things for the next day. Ron and Percy were next door to Harry. He had just closed and locked his own trunk when he heard angry voices through the wall, and went to see what was going on.**

**The door of number twelve was ajar and Percy was shouting.**

"**It was here, on the bedside table, I took it off for polishing —"**

"**I haven't touched it, all right?" Ron roared back.**

"**What's up?" said Harry.**

"**My Head Boy badge is gone," said Percy, rounding on Harry.**

"**So's Scabbers's Rat Tonic," said Ron, throwing things out of his trunk to look. "I think I might've left it in the bar —"**

"**You're not going anywhere till you've found my badge!" yelled Percy.**

"**I'll get Scabbers's stuff, I'm packed," Harry said to Ron, and he went downstairs.**

**Harry was halfway along the passage to the bar, which was now very dark, when he heard another pair of angry voices coming from the parlor. A second later, he recognized them as Mr. and Mrs. Weasleys'. He hesitated, not wanting them to know he'd heard them arguing, when the sound of his own name made him stop, then move closer to the parlor door.**

"… **makes no sense not to tell him,"**

"Not tell him what?" Ron asked.

"Listen and you'll see," Hermione snapped.

"**Mr. Weasley was saying heatedly. "Harry's got a right to know. I've tried to tell Fudge, but he insists on treating Harry like a child. He's thirteen years old and —"**

"**Arthur, the truth would terrify him!" said Mrs. Weasley shrilly. "Do you really want to send Harry back to school with that hanging over him? For heaven's sake, he's happy not knowing!"**

"**I don't want to make him miserable, I want to put him on his guard!" retorted Mr. Weasley. "You know what Harry and Ron are like, wandering off by themselves — they've ended up in the Forbidden Forest twice! But Harry mustn't do that this year! When I think what could have happened to him that night he ran away from home! If the Knight Bus hadn't picked him up, I'm prepared to bet he would have been dead before the Ministry found him."**

"He could have but not from me," Said Sirius.

"**But he's not dead, he's fine, so what's the point —"**

"**Molly, they say Sirius Black's mad, and maybe he is, but he was clever enough to escape from Azkaban, and that's supposed to be impossible. It's been three weeks, and no one's seen hide nor hair of him, and I don't care what Fudge keeps telling the Daily Prophet, we're no nearer catching Black than inventing self-spelling wands. The only thing we know for sure is what Black's after —"**

"**But Harry will be perfectly safe at Hogwarts."**

"**We thought Azkaban was perfectly safe. If Black can break out of Azkaban, he can break into Hogwarts."**

"I did," Said Sirius.

"**But no one's really sure that Black's after Harry —"**

**There was a thud on wood, and Harry was sure Mr. Weasley had banged his fist on the table.**

"**Molly, how many times do I have to tell you? They didn't report it in the press because Fudge wanted it kept quiet, but Fudge went out to Azkaban the night Black escaped. The guards told Fudge that Blacks been talking in his sleep for a while now. Always the same words: 'He's at Hogwarts… he's at Hogwarts.' Black is deranged, Molly, and he wants Harry dead. If you ask me, he thinks murdering Harry will bring You-Know-Who back to power. Black lost everything the night Harry stopped You-Know-Who, and he's had twelve years alone in Azkaban to brood on that…"**

"I lost Lily and James," Said Sirius with tears in his eyes.

"**There was a silence. Harry leaned still closer to the door, desperate to hear more.**

"**Well, Arthur, you must do what you think is right. But you're forgetting Albus Dumbledore. I don't think anything could hurt Harry at Hogwarts while Dumbledore's Headmaster. I suppose he knows about all this?"**

"**Of course he knows. We had to ask him if he minds the Azkaban guards stationing themselves around the entrances to the school grounds. He wasn't happy about it, but he agreed."**

"**Not happy? Why shouldn't he be happy, if they're there to catch Black?"**

"**Dumbledore isn't fond of the Azkaban guards," said Mr. Weasley heavily. "Nor am I, if it comes to that… but when you're dealing with a wizard like Black, you sometimes have to join forces with those you'd rather avoid."**

"**If they save Harry —"**

"They almost performed the kiss," Said Harry.

"– **then I will never say another word against them," said Mr. Weasley wearily. "It's late, Molly, we'd better go up…"**

**Harry heard chairs move. As quietly as he could, he hurried down the passage to the bar and out of sight. The parlor door opened, and a few seconds later footsteps told him that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were climbing the stairs.**

**The bottle of rat tonic was lying under the table they had sat at earlier. Harry waited until he heard Mr. and Mrs. Wesley's bedroom door close, then headed back upstairs with the bottle.**

**Fred and George were crouching in the shadows on the landing, heaving with laughter as they listened to Percy dismantling his and Ron's room in search of his badge.**

"**We've got it," Fred whispered to Harry. "We've been improving it."**

**The badge now read Bighead Boy."**

Many laughed.

"**Harry forced a laugh, went to give Ron the rat tonic, then shut himself in his room and lay down on his bed.**

**So Sirius Black was after him. This explained everything. Fudge had been lenient with him because he was so relieved to find him alive. He'd made Harry promise to stay in Diagon Alley where there were plenty of wizards to keep an eye on him. And he was sending two Ministry cars to take them all to the station tomorrow, so that the Weasleys could look after Harry until he was on the train.**

**Harry lay listening to the muffled shouting next door and wondered why he didn't feel more scared."**

"You weren't?" Ron asked.

**Sirius Black had murdered thirteen people with one curse; Mr. and Mrs. Weasley obviously thought Harry would be panic-stricken if he knew the truth. But Harry happened to agree wholeheartedly with Mrs. Weasley that the safest place on earth was wherever Albus Dumbledore happened to be. Didn't people always say that Dumbledore was the only person Lord Voldemort had ever been afraid of? Surely Black, as Voldemort's right-hand man, would be just as frightened of him?"**

"Nope," Said Sirius.

"**And then there were these Azkaban guards everyone kept talking about. They seemed to scare most people senseless, and if they were stationed all around the school, Black's chances of getting inside seemed very remote.**

**No, all in all, the thing that bothered Harry most was the fact that his chances of visiting Hogsmeade now looked like zero. Nobody would want Harry to leave the safety of the castle until Black was caught; in fact, Harry suspected his every move would be carefully watched until the danger had passed.**

**He scowled at the dark ceiling. Did they think he couldn't look after himself? He'd escaped Lord V-voldemort three times; he wasn't completely useless…**

**Unbidden, the image of the beast in the shadows of Magnolia Crescent crossed his mind. What to do when you know the worst is coming…**

"**I'm not going to be murdered," Harry said out loud.**

"**That's the spirit, dear," said his mirror sleepily."**

Fred and George snorted.

"Who next?" Hermione asked.

"I will," Harry said taking the book.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

I don't own anything.

To Lupinesence, it's in Harry's fifth year. I'm really sorry I wrote sixth but I meant fifth and it's before Sirius dies.

Chapter 5

Harry began to read.

"**Chapter five, The Dementor.**

**Tom woke Harry the next morning with his usual toothless grin"**

"Creepy," Said Fred.

"**and a cup of tea. Harry got dressed and was just persuading a disgruntled Hedwig to get back into her cage when Ron banged his way into the room, pulling a sweatshirt over his head and looking irritable.**

"**The sooner we get on the train, the better," he said. "At least I can get away from Percy at Hogwarts. Now he's accusing me of dripping tea on his photo of Penelope Clearwater. You know," Ron grimaced, "his girlfriend. She's hidden her face under the frame because her nose has gone all blotchy…"**

"**I've got something to tell you," Harry began, but they were interrupted by Fred and George, who had looked in to congratulate Ron on infuriating Percy again.**

**They headed down to breakfast, where Mr. Weasley was reading the front page of the Daily Prophet with a furrowed brow and Mrs. Weasley was telling Hermione and Ginny about a love potion she'd made as a young girl. All three of them were rather giggly.**

"**What were you saying?" Ron asked Harry as they sat down.**

"**Later," Harry muttered as Percy stormed in.**

**Harry had no chance to speak to Ron or Hermione in the chaos of leaving; they were too busy heaving all their trunks down the Leaky Cauldron's narrow staircase and piling them up near the door, with Hedwig and Hermes, Percy's screech owl, perched on top in their cages. A small wickerwork basket stood beside the heap of trunks, spitting loudly.**

"**It's all right, Crookshanks," Hermione cooed through the wickerwork. "I'll let you out on the train."**

"**You won't," snapped Ron. "What about poor Scabbers, eh?"**

**He pointed at his chest, where a large lump indicated that Scabbers was curled up in his pocket.**

**Mr. Weasley, who had been outside waiting for the Ministry cars, stuck his head inside.**

"**They're here," he said. "Harry, come on."**

**Mr. Weasley marched Harry across the short stretch of pavement toward the first of two old-fashioned dark green cars, each of which was driven by a furtive-looking wizard wearing a suit of emerald velvet.**

"**In you get, Harry," said Mr. Weasley, glancing up and down the crowded street.**

**Harry got into the back of the car and was shortly joined by Hermione, Ron, and, to Ron's disgust, Percy.**

**The journey to King's Cross was very uneventful compared with Harry's trip on the Knight Bus. The Ministry of Magic cars seemed almost ordinary. though Harry noticed that they could slide through gaps that Uncle Vernon's new company car certainly couldn't have managed. They reached King's Cross with twenty minutes to spare; the Ministry drivers found them trolleys, unloaded their trunks, touched their hats in salute to Mr. Weasley, and drove away, somehow managing to jump to the head of an unmoving line at the traffic lights.**

**Mr. Weasley kept close to Harry's elbow all the way into the station.**

"**Right then," he said, glancing around them. "Let's do this in pairs, as there are so many of us. I'll go through first with Harry."**

**Mr. Weasley strolled toward the barrier between platforms nine and ten, pushing Harry's trolley and apparently very interested in the InterCity 125 that had just arrived at platform nine. With a meaningful look at Harry, he leaned casually against the barrier. Harry imitated him.**

**In a moment, they had fallen sideways through the solid metal onto platform nine and three-quarters and looked up to see the Hogwarts Express, a scarlet steam engine, puffing smoke over a platform packed with witches and wizards seeing their children onto the train.**

**Percy and Ginny suddenly appeared behind Harry. They were panting and had apparently taken the barrier at a run.**

"**Ah, there's Penelope!"**

Fred and George snorted.

"**said Percy, smoothing his hair and going pink again. Ginny caught Harry's eye, and they both turned away to hide their laughter as Percy strode over to a girl with long, curly hair, walking with his chest thrown out so that she couldn't miss his shiny badge."**

"Git," Said Ron.

"**Once the remaining Weasleys and Hermione had joined them, Harry and Mr. Weasley led the way to the end of the train, past packed compartments, to a carriage that looked quite empty. They loaded the trunks onto it, stowed Hedwig and Crookshanks in the luggage rack, then went back outside to say goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.**

**Mrs. Weasley kissed all her children, then Hermione, and finally Harry. He was embarrassed, but really quite pleased, when she gave him an extra hug.**

"**Do take care, won't you Harry?" she said as she straightened up, her eyes oddly bright. Then she opened her enormous handbag and said, "I've made you all sandwiches. Here you are, Ron… no, they're not corned beef… Fred? Where's Fred? Here you are dear…"**

"**Harry," said Mr. Weasley quietly, "come over here for a moment."**

"Oooooh…" Said Fred.

"What's he going to say?" George asked.

"**He jerked his head towards a pillar, and Harry followed him behind it, leaving the others crowded around Mrs. Weasley.**

"**There's something I've got to tell you before you leave —" said Mr. Weasley in a tense voice.**

"**It's all right, Mr. Weasley," said Harry, "I already know."**

"**You know? How could you know?"**

"**I — er — I heard you and Mrs. Wesley talking last night. I couldn't help hearing," Harry added quickly. "Sorry —"**

"**That's not the way I'd have chosen for you to find out," said Mr. Weasley looking anxious..**

"**No — honestly it'sokay. This way, you haven't broken your word to Fudge and I know what's going on."**

"**Harry, you must be scared — "**

"**I'm not," said Harry sincerely. "Really," he added, because Mr. Weasley was looking disbelieving. "I'm not trying to be a hero, but seriously, Sirius Black can't be worse than Lord Voldemort, can he?"**

**Mr. Weasley flinched at the sound of the name, but overlooked it.**

"**Harry, I knew you were, well, made of stronger stuff than Fudge seems to think, and I'm obviously pleased that you're not scared, but —"**

"**Arthur!" called Mrs. Weasley, who was now shepherding the rest onto the train. "Arthur, what are you doing? It's about to go!"**

"There's mum," Said Fred.

"**He's coming Molly!"**

"Go dad!" George said.

"**said Mr. Weasley, but he turned back to Harry and kept talking in a lower and more hurried voice, "Listen, I want you to give me your word —"**

" — **that I'll be a good boy and stay in the castle?" said Harry gloomily.**

"**Not entirely," said Mr. Weasley, who looked more serious than Harry had ever seen him. "Harry, swear to me you won't go looking for Black."**

**Harry stared, "What!"**

**There was a loud whistle. Guards were walking along the train, slamming all the doors shut.**

"**Promise me, Harry," said Mr. Weasley, talking more quickly still, "that whatever happens —"**

"**Why would I go looking for someone I know wants to kill me?" said Harry blankly.**

"**Swear to me that whatever you might hear —"**

"**Arthur, quickly!" cried Mrs. Weasley.**

**Steam was billowing from the train it had started to move. Harry ran to the compartment door"**

"Nice."

"**and Ron threw it open and stood back to let him on. They leaned out of the window and waved at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley until the train turned a corner and blocked them from view.**

"**I need to talk to you in private," Harry muttered to Ron and Hermione as the train picked up speed.**

"**Go away, Ginny," said Ron.**

"**Oh, that's nice," said Ginny huffily, and she stalked off.**

**Harry, Ron, and Hermione set off down the corridor, looking for an empty compartment, but all were full except for the one at the very end of the train.**

**This had only one occupant, a man sitting fast asleep next to the window. Harry, Ron, and Hermione checked on the threshold. The Hogwarts Express was usually reserved for students and they had never seen an adult there before, except for the witch who pushed the food cart.**

**The stranger was wearing an extremely shabby set of wizard's robes that had been darned in several places. He looked ill and exhausted. Though quite young, his light brown hair was flecked with gray."**

"Remus!" Sirius exclaimed loudly.

"**Who d'you reckon he is?" Ron hissed as they sat down and slid the door shut, taking the seats farthest away from the window.**

"**Professor R. J. Lupin." whispered Hermione at once.**

"**How'd you know that?"**

"**It's on his case,"**

"Ah dur," Said Fred.

"**she replied, pointing at the luggage rack over the man's head, where there was a small, battered case held together with a large quantity of neatly knotted string. The name Professor R. J. Lupin was stamped across one corner in peeling letters.**

"**Wonder what he teaches?" said Ron, frowning at Professor Lupin's pallid profile.**

"**That's obvious," whispered Hermione. "There's only one vacancy, isn't there? Defense Against the Dark Arts."**

**Harry, Ron, and Hermione had already had two Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, both of whom had lasted only one year. There were rumors that the job was jinxed.**

"**Well, I hope he's up to it," said Ron doubtfully. "He looks like one good hex would finish him off, doesn't he? Anyway…" he turned to Harry, "what were you going to tell us?"**

**Harry explained all about Mr. and Mrs. Wesley's argument and the warning Mr. Weasley had just given him. When he'd finished, Ron looked thunderstruck, and Hermione had her hands over her mouth. She finally lowered them to say, "Sirius Black escaped to come after you? Oh, Harry… you'll have to be really, really careful. don't go looking for trouble, Harry…"**

"**I don't go looking for trouble," said Harry, nettled. "Trouble usually finds me."**

Almost everyone began to laugh. Snape highly doubted trouble found him. Maybe once or twice but most of the time he went to find it.

"**How thick would Harry have to be, to go looking for a nutter who wants to kill him?" said Ron shakily.**

**They were taking the news worse than Harry had expected. Both Ron and Hermione seemed to be much more frightened of Black than he was.**

"**No one knows how he got out of Azkaban," said Ron uncomfortably. "No one's ever done it before. And he was a top-security prisoner too."**

"I'm awesome," Said Sirius.

"**But they'll catch him, won't they?" said Hermione earnestly. "I mean, they've got all the Muggles looking out for him too…"**

"**What's that noise?" said Ron suddenly.**

**A faint, tinny sort of whistle was coming from somewhere. They looked all around the compartment.**

"**It's coming from your trunk, Harry," said Ron, standing up and reaching into the luggage rack. A moment later he had pulled the Pocket Sneakoscope out from between Harry's robes. It was spinning very fast in the palm of Ron's hand and glowing brilliantly.**

"**Is that a Sneakoscope?" said Hermione interestedly, standing up for a better look.**

"**Yeah… mind you, it's a very cheap one," Ron said. "It went haywire just as I was tying it to Errol's leg to send it to Harry."**

"**Were you doing anything untrustworthy at the time?" said Hermione shrewdly.**

"**No! Well… I wasn't supposed to be using Errol. You know he's not really up to long journeys… but how else was I supposed to get Harry's present to him?"**

"**Stick it back in the trunk," Harry advised as the Sneakoscope whistled piercingly, "or it'll wake him up."**

**He nodded toward Professor Lupin. Ron stuffed the Sneakoscope into a particularly horrible pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks, which deadened the sound, then closed the lid of the trunk on it.**

"**We could get it checked in Hogsmeade," said Ron, sitting back down. "They sell that sort of thing in Dervish and Banges, magical instruments and stuff. Fred and George told me."**

"**Do you know much about Hogsmeade?" asked Hermione keenly. "I've read it's the only entirely non-Muggle settlement in Britain —"**

"**Yeah, I think it is," said Ron in an offhand sort of way. "but that's not why I want to go. I just want to get inside Honeydukes!"**

"**What's that?" said Hermione.**

"**It's this sweetshop," said Ron, a dreamy look coming over his face, "where they've got everything… Pepper Imps — they make you smoke at the mouth — and great fat Chocoballs full of strawberry mousse and clotted cream, and really excellent sugar quills, which you can suck in class and just look like you're thinking what to write next–"**

"Do you only think about food?" Hermione asked.

"**But Hogsmeade's a very interesting place, isn't it?" Hermione pressed on eagerly. "In Sites of Historical Sorcery it says the inn was the headquarters for the 1612 goblin rebellion, and the Shrieking Shack's supposed to be the most severely haunted building in Britain —"**

"No it's for Remus on full moons," Said Sirius.

"Really?" Fred and George asked.

Sirius nodded.

"We tried to break in once," Said George.

"– **and massive sherbet balls that make you levitate a few inches off the ground while you're sucking them," said Ron, who was plainly not listening to a word Hermione was saying.**

**Hermione looked around at Harry.**

"**Won't it be nice to get out of school for a bit and explore Hogsmeade?"**

"'**Spect it will," said Harry heavily. "You'll have to tell me when you've found out."**

"**What d'you mean?" said Ron.**

"**I can't go. The Dursleys didn't sign my permission form, and Fudge wouldn't either."**

**Ron looked horrified.**

"**You're not allowed to come? But — no way — McGonagall or someone will give you permission —"**

**Harry gave a hollow laugh. Professor McGonagall, head of Gryffindor house, was very strict.**

"– **or we can ask Fred and George, they know every secret passage out of the castle —"**

"**Ron!" said Hermione sharply. "I don't think Harry should be sneaking out of the school with Black on the loose —"**

"**Yeah, I expect that's what McGonagall will say when I ask of permission," said Harry bitterly.**

"**But if we're with him," said Ron spiritedly to Hermione. "Black wouldn't dare —"**

"**Oh, Ron, don't talk rubbish," snapped Hermione. "Black's already murdered a whole bunch of people in the middle of a crowded street, do you really think he's going to worry about attacking Harry just because we're there?"**

Sirius laughed.

"At least I got into Hogsmeade without permission and then I got permission the next year," Said Harry.

"What?" McGonagall asked.

"Nothing."

"**She was fumbling with the straps of Crookshanks's basket as she spoke.**

"**Don't let that thing out!" Ron said, but too late; Crookshanks leapt lightly from the basket, stretched, yawned, and sprang onto Ron's knees; the lump in Ron's pocket trembled and he shoved Crookshanks angrily away.**

"**Get out of it!"**

"**Ron, don't!" said Hermione angrily.**

**Ron was about to answer back when Professor Lupin stirred. They watched him apprehensively, but he simply turned his head the other way, mouth slightly open, and slept on.**

**The Hogwarts Express moved steadily north and the scenery outside the window became wilder and darker while the clouds overhead thickened overhead. People were chasing backwards and forwards past the door of their compartment. Crookshanks had now settled in an empty seat, his squashed face turned towards Ron, his yellow eyes on Ron's top pocket.**

**At one o'clock the plump witch with the food cart arrived at the compartment door.**

"**D'you think we should wake him up?" Ron asked awkwardly, nodding towards Professor Lupin. "He looks like he could do with some food."**

**Hermione approached Professor Lupin cautiously.**

"**Er — Professor?" she said. "Excuse me — Professor?"**

**He didn't move.**

"**Don't worry, dear," said the witch, as she handed a large stack of cauldron cakes. "If he's hungry when he wakes, I'll be up front with the driver."**

"**I suppose he is asleep?" said Ron quietly, as the witch slid the compartment door closed. "I mean — he hasn't died, has he?"**

Sirius laughed. "Yeah, he's dead."

"**No, no, he's breathing," whispered Hermione, taking the cauldron cake Harry passed her.**

**He might not be very good company, but Professor Lupin's presence in their compartment had its uses. Mid-afternoon, just as it had started to rain, blurring the rolling hills outside the window, they heard footsteps outside in the corridor again, and their three least favorite people appeared at the door: Draco Malfoy, flanked by his cronies, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.**

**Draco Malfoy and Harry had been enemies ever since they had met on their very first journey to Hogwarts. Malfoy, who had a pale, pointed, sneering face, was in Slytherin house; he played Seeker on the Slytherin Quidditch team, the same position that Harry played on the Gryffindor team. Crabbe and Goyle seemed to exist to do Malfoy's bidding. They were both wide and muscley; Crabbe was taller, with a pudding-bowl haircut and a very thick neck; Goyle had short, bristly hair and long, gorilla arms.**

"**Well, look who it is," said Malfoy in his usual lazy drawl, pulling open the compartment door. "Potty and the Weasel."**

**Crabbe and Goyle chuckled trollishly.**

"**I heard your father finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Weasley," said Malfoy. "Did your mother die of shock?"**

"How dare he?" McGonagall said.

"It's Malfoy he'd say anything. In first year he said the Gryffindor Quidditch team was made of people they felt sorry for," Said Ron.

"Me who has no parents," Said Harry.

Sirius growled.

"Fred and George with no money. And then he said Neville should join since he had no brains!" Ron said.

McGonagall looked furious.

"**Ron stood up so quickly he knocked Crookshanks's basket to the floor. Professor Lupin gave a snort."**

"It's not funny!" Sirius said getting strange looks.

Snape was tempted to shout some things at his enemy.

"**Who's that?" said Malfoy, taking an automatic step backward as he spotted Lupin."**

"It's Remus you git!"

"**New teacher," said Harry, who got to his feet, too, in case he needed to hold Ron back. "What were you saying, Malfoy?"**

**Malfoy's pale eyes narrowed; he wasn't fool enough to pick a fight right under a teacher's nose."**

"Coward!" Fred and George sang.

"**C'mon," he muttered resentfully to Crabbe and Goyle, and they disappeared.**

**Harry and Ron sat down again, Ron massaging his knuckles.**

"**I'm not going to take any crap from Malfoy this year," he said angrily. "I mean it. If he makes one more crack about my family, I'm going to get hold of his head and —"**

**Ron made a violent gesture in midair.**

"**Ron," hissed Hermione, pointing at Professor Lupin, "be careful…"**

**But Professor Lupin was still fast asleep."**

"He wouldn't be mad," Said Sirius.

"**The rain thickened as the train sped yet farther north; the windows were now a solid, shimmering gray, which gradually darkened until lanterns flickered into life all along the corridors and over the luggage racks. The train rattled, the rain hammered, the wind roared, but still, Professor Lupin slept."**

"Wake up already!" Sirius groaned.

"**We must be nearly there," said Ron, leaning forward to look past Professor Lupin at the now completely black window.**

**The words had hardly left him when the train started to slow down.**

"**Great," said Ron, getting up and walking carefully past Professor Lupin to try and see outside. "I'm starving. I want to get to the feast…"**

"**We can't be there yet," said Hermione, checking her watch.**

"**So why're we stopping?"**

**The train was getting slower and slower. As the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind and rain sounded louder than ever against the windows.**

**Harry, who was nearest the door, got up to look into the corridor. All along the carriage, heads were sticking curiously out of their compartments.**

**The train came to a stop with a jolt, and distant thuds and bangs told them that luggage had fallen out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and they were plunged into total darkness."**

"What happened?" Fred and George asked.

"**What's going on?" said Ron's voice from behind Harry.**

"**Ouch!" gasped Hermione. "Ron, that was my foot!"**

**Harry felt his way back to his seat.**

"**D'you think we've broken down?"**

"**Dunno…"**

**There was a squeaking sound, and Harry saw the dim black outline of Ron, wiping a patch clean on the window and peering out.**

"**There's something moving out there," Ron said. "I think people are coming aboard…"**

**The compartment door suddenly opened and someone fell painfully over Harry's legs.**

"**Sorry! D'you know what's going on? Ouch! Sorry —"**

"**Hullo, Neville," said Harry, feeling around in the dark and pulling Neville up by his cloak.**

"**Harry? Is that you? What's happening?"**

"**No idea! Sit down —"**

**There was a loud hissing and a yelp of pain; Neville had tried to sit on Crookshanks.**

"**I'm going to go and ask the driver what's going on," came Hermione's voice. Harry felt her pass him, heard the door slide open again, and then a thud and two loud squeals of pain.**

"**Who's that?"**

"**Who's that?"**

"**Ginny?"**

"**Hermione?"**

"**What are you doing?"**

"**I was looking for Ron —"**

"**Come in and sit down —"**

"**Not here!" said Harry hurriedly. "I'm here!"**

"**Ouch!" said Neville.**

"**Quiet!" said a hoarse voice suddenly.**

**Professor Lupin"**

"YAY!"

"**appeared to have woken up at last. Harry could hear movements in his corner.**

**None of them spoke.**

**There was a soft, crackling noise, and a shivering light filled the compartment. Professor Lupin appeared to be holding a handful of flames. They illuminated his tired, gray face, but his eyes looked alert and wary.**

"**Stay where you are." he said in the same hoarse voice, and he got slowly to his feet with his handful of fire held out in front of him."**

"Ooooh, serious or Sirius," Said Sirius.

"**But the door slid slowly open before Lupin could reach it.**

**Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the shivering flames in Lupin's hand, was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood. Harry's eyes darted downward, and what he saw made his stomach contract. There was a hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, grayish, slimy-looking, and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water…**

**But it was visible only for a split second. As though the creature beneath the cloak sensed Harry's gaze, the hand was suddenly withdrawn into the folds of its black cloak.**

**And then the thing beneath the hood, whatever it was, drew a long, slow, rattling breath, as though it were trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings.**

**An intense cold swept over them all. Harry felt his own breath catch in his chest. The cold went deeper than his skin. It was inside his chest, it was inside his very heart…**

**Harry's eyes rolled up into his head. He couldn't see. He was drowning in cold. There was a rushing in his ears as though of water. He was being dragged downward, the roaring growing louder…"**

"Harry!" Fred and George said.

"Shut up!"

"**And then, from far away, he heard screaming, terrible, terrified, pleading screams. He wanted to help whoever it was, he tried to move his arms, but couldn't… a thick white fog was swirling around him, inside him —"**

"Mum," Harry moaned.

"You heard Lily?" Sirius asked.

Harry nodded.

"**Harry! Harry! Are you all right?"**

**Someone was slapping his face.**

"**W-what?"**

**Harry opened his eyes; there were lanterns above him, and the floor was shaking — the Hogwarts Express was moving again and the lights had come back on. He seemed to have slid out of his seat onto the floor. Ron and Hermione were kneeling next to him, and above them he could see Neville and Professor Lupin watching. Harry felt very sick; when he put up his hand to push his glasses back on, he felt cold sweat on his face.**

**Ron and Hermione heaved him back onto his seat.**

"**Are you okay?" Ron asked nervously.**

"**Yeah," said Harry, looking quickly toward the door. The hooded creature had vanished. "What happened? Where's that — that thing? Who screamed?"**

"**No one screamed," said Ron, more nervously still.**

**Harry looked around the bright compartment. Ginny and Neville looked back at him, both very pale.**

"**But I heard screaming —"**

**A loud snap made them all jump. Professor Lupin was breaking an enormous slab of chocolate into pieces.**

"**Here," he said to Harry, handing him a particularly large piece. "Eat it. It'll help."**

**Harry took the chocolate but didn't eat it.**

"**What was that thing?" he asked Lupin.**

"**A Dementor," said Lupin, who was now giving chocolate to everyone else. "One of the Dementors of Azkaban."**

Sirius shuddered.

"**Everyone stared at him. Professor Lupin crumpled up the empty chocolate wrapper and put it in his pocket.**

"**Eat," he repeated. "It'll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me…"**

**He strolled past Harry and disappeared into the corridor.**

"**Are you sure you're okay, Harry?" said Hermione, watching Harry anxiously.**

"**I don't get it… what happened?" said Harry, wiping more sweat off his face.**

"**Well — that thing — the Dementor — stood there and looked around (I mean, I think it did, I couldn't see its face) — and you — you —"**

"**I thought you were having a fit or something," said Ron, who still looked scared. "You went sort of rigid and fell out of your seat and started twitching —"**

"**And Professor Lupin stepped over you, and walked toward the Dementor, and pulled out his wand," said Hermione, "and he said, 'None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go.' But the Dementor didn't move, so Lupin muttered something, and a silvery thing shot out of his wand at it, and it turned around and sort of glided away…"**

"Patronus," Said Harry.

"**It was horrible," said Neville, in a higher voice than usual. "Did you feel how cold it got when it came in?"**

"**I felt weird," said Ron, shifting his shoulders uncomfortably. "Like I'd never be cheerful again…"**

Sirius whimpered sounding like a dog remembering his time in Azkaban.

"**Ginny, who was huddled in her corner looking nearly as bad as Harry felt, gave a small sob; Hermione went over and put a comforting arm around her.**

"**But didn't any of you — fall off your seats?" said Harry awkwardly.**

"**No," said Ron, looking anxiously at Harry again. "Ginny was shaking like mad, though…"**

**Harry didn't understand. He felt weak and shivery, as though he were recovering from a bad bout of flu; he also felt the beginnings of shame. Why had he gone to pieces like that, when no one else had?**

**Professor Lupin had come back. He paused as he entered, looked around, and said, with a small smile, "I haven't poisoned that chocolate, you know…"**

**Harry took a bite and to his great surprise felt warmth spread suddenly to the tips of his fingers and toes.**

"**We'll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes," said Professor Lupin. "Are you all right, Harry?"**

**Harry didn't ask how Professor Lupin knew his name."**

"Everyone knows your name," Said Ron.

"**Fine," he muttered, embarrassed.**

**They didn't talk much during the remainder of the journey. At long last, the train stopped at Hogsmeade station, and there was a great scramble to get outside; owls hooted, cats meowed, and Neville's pet toad croaked loudly from under his hat. It was freezing on the tiny platform; rain was driving down in icy sheets.**

"**Firs' years this way!"**

"Hagrid!"

"**called a familiar voice. Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned and saw the gigantic outline of Hagrid at the other end of the platform, beckoning the terrified-looking new students forward for their traditional journey across the lake.**

"**All right, you three?" Hagrid yelled over the heads of the crowd. They waved at him, but had no chance to speak to him because the mass of people around them was shunting them away along the platform. Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed the rest of the school along the platform and out onto a rough mud track, where at least a hundred stagecoaches awaited the remaining students, each pulled, Harry could only assume, by an invisible horse,"**

"Threstrals," Said Harry.

"**because when they climbed inside and shut the door, the coach set off all by itself, bumping and swaying in procession.**

**The coach smelled faintly of mold and straw. Harry felt better since the chocolate, but still weak. Ron and Hermione kept looking at him sideways, as though frightened he might collapse again.**

**As the carriage trundled toward a pair of magnificent wrought iron gates, flanked with stone columns topped with winged boars, Harry saw two more towering, hooded Dementors, standing guard on either side. A wave of cold sickness threatened to engulf him again; he leaned back into the lumpy seat and closed his eyes until they had passed the gates. The carriage picked up speed on the long, sloping drive up to the castle; Hermione was leaning out of the tiny window, watching the many turrets and towers draw nearer. At last, the carriage swayed to a halt, and Hermione and Ron got out.**

**As Harry stepped down, a drawling, delighted voice sounded in his ear.**

"**You fainted, Potter? Is Longbottorn telling the truth? You actually fainted?"**

"Malfoy," Said Ron.

"**Malfoy elbowed past Hermione to block Harry's way up the stone steps to the castle, his face gleeful and his pale eyes glinting maliciously.**

"**Shove off, Malfoy," said Ron, whose jaw was clenched.**

"**Did you faint as well, Weasley?" said Malfoy loudly. "Did the scary old Dementor frighten you too, Weasley?"**

"**Is there a problem?" said a mild voice. Professor Lupin had just gotten out of the next carriage."**

"Go Remus!" Sirius shouted.

"**Malfoy gave Professor Lupin an insolent stare, which took in the patches on his robes and the dilapidated suitcase. With a tiny hint of sarcasm in his voice, he said, "Oh, no — er —Professor," then he smirked at Crabbe and Goyle and led them up the steps into the castle.**

**Hermione prodded Ron in the back to make him hurry, and the three of them joined the crowd swarming up the steps, through the giant oak front doors, into the cavernous Entrance Hall, which was lit with flaming torches, and housed a magnificent marble staircase that led to the upper floors.**

**The door into the Great Hall stood open at the right; Harry followed the crowd toward it, but had barely glimpsed the enchanted ceiling, which was black and cloudy tonight, when a voice called, "Potter! Granger! I want to see you both!"**

**Harry and Hermione turned around, surprised. Professor McGonagall, Transfiguration teacher and head of Gryffindor House, was calling over the heads of the crowd. She was a stern looking witch who wore her hair in a tight bun; her sharp eyes were framed with square spectacles. Harry fought his way over to her with a feeling of foreboding: Professor McGonagall had a way of making him feel he must have done something wrong.**

"**There's no need to look so worried — I just want a word in my office," she told them. "Move along there, Weasley."**

**Ron stared as Professor McGonagall ushered Harry and Hermione away from the chattering crowd; they accompanied her across the entrance hall, up the marble staircase, and along a corridor.**

**Once they were in her office, a small room with a large, welcoming fire, Professor McGonagall motioned Harry and Hermione to sit down. She settled herself behind her desk and said abruptly, "Professor Lupin sent an owl ahead to say that you were taken ill on the train, Potter."**

**Before Harry could reply, there was a soft knock on the door and Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, came bustling in.**

**Harry felt himself going red in the face. It was bad enough that he'd passed out, or whatever he had done, without everyone making all this fuss.**

"**I'm fine," he said, "I don't need anything —"**

"**Oh, it's you, is it?" said Madam Pomfrey, ignoring this and bending down to stare closely at him. "I suppose you've been doing something dangerous again?"**

Harry groaned.

"**It was a Dementor, Poppy," said Professor McGonagall.**

**They exchanged a dark look, and Madam Pomfrey clucked disapprovingly.**

"**Setting Dementors around a school," she muttered, pushing back Harry's hair and feeling his forehead. "He won't be the last one who collapses. Yes, he's all clammy. Terrible things, they are, and the effect they have on people who are already delicate —"**

"**I'm not delicate!" said Harry crossly."**

Fred and George snickered.

"**Of course you're not," said Madam Pomfrey absentmindedly, now taking his pulse.**

"**What does he need?" said Professor McGonagall crisply. "Bed rest? Should he perhaps spend tonight in the hospital wing?"**

"**I'm fine!" said Harry, jumping up. The thought of what Draco Malfoy would say if he had to go to the hospital wing was torture.**

"**Well, he should have some chocolate, at the very least," said Madam Pomfrey, who was now trying to peer into Harry's eyes.**

"**I've already had some," said Harry. "Professor Lupin gave me some. He gave it to all of us."**

"**Did he, now?" said Madam Pomfrey approvingly. "So we've finally got a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who knows his remedies?"**

"Well duh! Remus is actually smart surprisingly," Said Sirius.

"**Are you sure you feel all right, Potter?" Professor McGonagall said sharply.**

"**Yes," said Harry.**

"**Very well. Kindly wait outside while I have a quick word with Miss Granger about her course schedule, then we can go down to the feast together."**

**Harry went back into the corridor with Madam Pomfrey, who left for the hospital wing, muttering to herself. He had to wait only a few minutes; then Hermione emerged looking very happy about something, followed by Professor McGonagall, and the three of them made their way back down the marble staircase to the Great Hall.**

**It was a sea of pointed black hats; each of the long House tables was lined with students, their faces glimmering by the light of thousands of candles, which were floating over the tables in midair. Professor Flitwick, who was a tiny little wizard with a shock of white hair, was carrying an ancient hat and a three-legged stool out of the hall.**

"**Oh," said Hermione softly, "we've missed the Sorting!"**

**New students at Hogwarts were sorted into Houses by trying on the Sorting Hat, which shouted out the House they were best suited to (Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, or Slytherin). Professor McGonagall strode off toward her empty seat at the staff table, and Harry and Hermione set off in the other direction, as quietly as possible, toward the Gryffindor table. People looked around at them as they passed along the back of the hall, and a few of them pointed at Harry. Had the story of his collapsing in front of the Dementor traveled that fast?**

**He and Hermione sat down on either side of Ron, who had saved them seats.**

"**What was all that about?" he muttered to Harry.**

**Harry started to explain in a whisper, but at that moment the headmaster stood up to speak, and he broke off.**

**Professor Dumbledore, though very old, always gave an impression of great energy. He had several feet of long silver hair and beard, half-moon spectacles, and an extremely crooked nose. He was often described as the greatest wizard of the age, but that wasn't why Harry respected him. You couldn't help trusting Albus Dumbledore, and as Harry watched him beaming around at the students, he felt really calm for the first time since the Dementor had entered the train compartment.**

"**Welcome!" said Dumbledore, the candlelight shimmering on his beard. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast…"**

**Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."**

**He paused, and Harry remembered what Mr. Weasley had said about Dumbledore not being happy with the Dementors guarding the school.**

"**They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," Dumbledore continued, "and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises — or even Invisibility Cloaks," he added blandly, and Harry and Ron glanced at each other."**

"I feel that comment was made specifically for us," Said Harry glancing at Ron and Hermione.

Hermione rolled her eyes and Ron grinned.

"**It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the Dementors," he said.**

**Percy, who was sitting a few seats down from Harry, puffed out his chest again and stared around impressively. Dumbledore paused again; he looked very seriously around the hall, and nobody moved or made a sound.**

"**On a happier note," he continued, "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year.**

"**First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."**

Sirius clapped very loudly.

"**There was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic applause. Only those who had been in the compartment on the train with Professor Lupin clapped hard, Harry among them. Professor Lupin looked particularly shabby next to all the other teachers in their best robes."**

"Rude," Said Sirius.

"**Look at Snape!" Ron hissed in Harry's ear."**

"It is Professor Snape," Said Snape.

"**Professor Snape, the Potions master, was staring along the staff table at Professor Lupin. It was common knowledge that Snape wanted the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, but even Harry, who hated Snape,"**

"Potter!"

"**was startled at the expression twisting his thin, sallow face. it was beyond anger: it was loathing."**

Sirius snorted getting a glare from Snape.

"**Harry knew that expression only too well; it was the look Snape wore every time he set eyes on Harry.**

"**As to our second new appointment," Dumbledore continued as the lukewarm applause for Professor Lupin died away. "Well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs."**

"Remaining?" Ron asked nervously.

"**However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."**

**Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at one another, stunned. Then they joined in with the applause, which was tumultuous at the Gryffindor table in particular. Harry leaned forward to see Hagrid, who was ruby red in the face and staring down at his enormous hands, his wide grin hidden in the tangle of his black beard.**

"**We should've known!" Ron roared, pounding the table. "Who else would have assigned us a biting book?"**

**Harry, Ron, and Hermione were the last to stop clapping, and as Professor Dumbledore started speaking again, they saw that Hagrid was wiping his eyes on the tablecloth.**

"**Well, I think that's everything of importance," said Dumbledore. "Let the feast begin!"**

**The golden plates and goblets before them filled suddenly with food and drink. Harry, suddenly ravenous, helped himself to everything he could reach and began to eat.**

**It was a delicious feast; the hall echoed with talk, laughter, and the clatter of knives and forks. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, however, were eager for it to finish so that they could talk to Hagrid. They knew how much being made a teacher would mean to him. Hagrid wasn't a fully qualified wizard; he had been expelled from Hogwarts in his third year for a crime he had not committed. It had been Harry, Ron, and Hermione who had cleared Hagrid's name last year."**

Ron and Hermione looked at Harry.

"**At long last, when the last morsels of pumpkin tart had melted from the golden platters, Dumbledore gave the word that it was time for them all to go to bed, and they got their chance.**

"**Congratulations, Hagrid!" Hermione squealed as they reached the teachers' table.**

"**All down ter you three," said Hagrid, wiping his shining face on his napkin as he looked up at them. "Can' believe it… great man, Dumbledore… came straight down to me hut after Professor Kettleburn said he'd had enough… It's what I always wanted…"**

**Overcome with emotion, he buried his face in his napkin, and Professor McGonagall shooed them away.**

**Harry, Ron, and Hermione joined the Gryffindors streaming up the marble staircase and, very tired now, along more corridors, up more and more stairs, to the hidden entrance to Gryffindor Tower, where a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink dress asked them, "Password?"**

"**Coming through, coming through!" Percy called from behind the crowd. "The new password's Fortuna Major!"**

"**Oh no," said Neville Longbottom sadly. He always had trouble remembering the passwords.**

**Through the portrait hole and across the common room, the girls and boys divided toward their separate staircases. Harry climbed the spiral stair with no thought in his head except how glad he was to be back. They reached their familiar, circular dormitory with its five four-poster beds, and Harry, looking around, felt he was home at last."**

Many gave Harry symphathetic looks.

"That's the end. Who wants to read?" Harry asked.

"I will," Said Ron.


End file.
